


How Lovely She Is, And How She Loves You.

by Frostyunicorn300



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Doctor Elise Watson, Elise is artsy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, John Watson is a good brother, John just wants his sister to be happy, Music buddies, Musician character, Romance, Watson sister, cuddle buddies, protective big brother John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-11 23:12:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 53,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12946080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostyunicorn300/pseuds/Frostyunicorn300
Summary: So, I've done some thinking and some re-reading and I've decided that I'm just not happy with this story and I feel like theres another direction I could have gone in so, I have made the decision to rewrite this story entirely, I'm not sure if I'll leave this one up or not but, there will more than likely be a name change but the title will remain the same. I'll probably post new chapters of the rewrite in a couple days maybe.--------------------------------------------------Elise Watson is not the type of woman a man like Sherlock Holmes would go for, average IQ, artist, doctor, his best friends little sister. Shes the type of person his elder brother would call a goldfish. But to Sherlock she's perfect. But as perfect as she is, Sherlock cant seem to get those three words to leave his mouth.





	1. Elise

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the summary, I'm rather not good at them. I know I posted the exact same story a few days earlier but I didn't quite like it so I decided to change it up a bit.

Elise Catherine Watson was born on December 25th, 1981. She was a shock to the hospital staff after they had informed the Watson's they could not have any more children seven years ago after the birth of their eldest daughter, Harriet. But the Watson's looked at their daughter as more of a miracle than a shock.  
Her elder brother John was happy to have another sister, Harriet however, was not.  
As Elsie grew she knew she was different and her family knew too.  
Her parents were both doctors and it looked like her siblings were following down the same path, but not Elsie, she wanted to be an artist for she loved to paint and sketch, she was really good at it too, but she owed some of her skills to her photographic memory and extraordinary attention to detail. Elise was a small girl with golden hair, shining hazel eyes, a warm smile and a big heart.  
On this particular morning, she readied herself for school.  
Elise pushed her feet into her brown leather shoes, the left had paint on it, shades of greens and purples from her canvas. Her brother called her name from downstairs and she rushed to push her blonde hair up into a bun before running down the blue carpet stairs, almost falling a few times.  
"God, can you be any more of a ditz?" Her older sister Harry asked.  
"Harriet, be nice." Her mother said fishing through her purse for her keys. "Elise, do you remember where I put my keys?"  
"In the bowl on the dining table, mum." She said.  
Her older brother John handed Elise her bright yellow backpack.  
Her mother came back moments later with the keys and ushered Elise into the car. 

 

Elise tugged at her blue school shirt in the front seat, her mother noticed her jeans and sighed.  
"They're covered in paint." She said.  
"All my pants are covered paint, mummy."  
Her mother pierced her lips together but just continued driving.  
"I don't know why I buy you new pants if you're just going to dirty them."  
Her mother pulled into the school parking lot and kissed Elise on the cheek before she got out.  
"Remember, you have a violin lesson after school, love. your dad will pick you up!"  
"I thought I had cello!"  
"That's Friday."  
Elise nodded to confirm before waving goodbye and joined her classmates in the yard.  
Two girls, she became acquainted with since she began school started to walk up to her, giggling to themselves. Elise smiled expecting a conversation but they just shoved passed her with smiles on their faces. Elise sighed when the school bell began to ring.  
Once inside she put her backpack in her cubby and sat at her desk. The day began as it always did with reading in the morning, followed by maths and grammar studies before lunch. Afterwards, there was a science lesson and perhaps art or music, depending on the day. On today, in particular, it was a music day.  
They couldn't play any instruments yet but Elise enjoyed the class all the same, even if it was just musical theory. 

 

Her dad stood outside by the school gates, watching the other children spill out the doors, chatting and laughing. He smiled when he saw his Elise.  
Looking up from her shoes she spotted her dad and smiled, breaking out into a run, she stopped with a jump.  
"Whoa there!" He said with a laugh, "you almost ran me over!" he ruffled her hair, she smacked his hand away in response and grabbed her bag straps.  
"I'm going to be late if we stand here any longer," Elise said, nose turned up a little in a joking manner. Her dad smiled and fiddled with his keys.  
"Well, if that's the case, then we better get moving."  
She followed him to the car and tossed her bag in the back seat and climbed in the front. He sped off away from the schoolhouse.  
"Can I pick the music?" she asked.  
"Sure, have at it, maestro."  
The ten-year-old tuned the radio until she found the classical station.  
"So what made you want to learn how to play the violin?"  
"I don't know, curiosity I guess." She said. "I'm still learning cello, I have violin every Wednesday and cello on Friday." She said. "Oh! I was also thinking about learning piano too!"  
Her dad chuckled and turned the corner. "Slow down kiddo, you don't have to learn all of them at once."  
"I know, I just want to."  
"Well, try not to get overwhelmed."  
"I won't." 

 

It was dark when she left Mrs. Barton's house, she was a friend of her aunt and offered lessons. Her dad was waiting in the car with couple pizzas in the back. Elise climbed into the passenger's seat and took a deep breath in.  
"Cheese pizza's?"  
"Of course, your favourite, and a meaty one for Harry." 

When they got home, John was going over his notes, Harry was watching the telly. Her dad made their presence known in the house. The tv was shut off and John put his papers away. Her dad put the large pizza box on the dining table but passed a small box to Harry.  
Her mother grabbed plates, coughing while she did so, she was still in her blue nurse's scrubs.  
"You okay, mum?" John asked she turned away to cough.  
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, putting the plates on the table and started to dish the pizza out to everyone. She turned back around to give Elise a glass of juice before placing a bottle of cola on the table. Elise wasn't allowed cola or any type of soft drink until she was at least twelve-years-old. Which she was fine with, the dark liquid didn't look very appetizing anyway.  
They ate in relative silence, exchanging a few words every now and again.  
After Elise was done eating she excused herself from the table and put her plate in the sink before running upstairs.  
Her child sized cello sat by her bedroom window on her cyan painted wall. She picked it up and sat on her bench beside her easel, taking hold of the bow she played the song inside her head and she played for hours.  
Later in the night, her dad sat outside her bedroom door, listening in. Her mother came up the stairs and sat next to her father.  
"She's been at it for hours." He said, exhausted, it was clearly past midnight and the rest of the house was asleep.  
"Should we go in there and tell her to stop?"  
"Be my guest." Her father said. "Enter the dragon's lair, you know she doesn't like to be disturbed when she's in her head."  
"I know...but she has school tomorrow." Her mother said, nudging her father to stand up.  
She opened the door and poked her head in.  
"Time for bed."  
"Five more minutes," Elise said without breaking concentration on her sheet music.  
"It's after midnight, love."  
Her mother took in her bedroom, art littered the walls, paint-stained nearly every surface. The art that her daughter created appeared like they should be way beyond the talent of a ten-year-old girl.  
"But-"  
"No buts." Her mother cooed and took the cello, setting it aside carefully.  
Elise stretched and rubbed her eyes with a yawn.  
Her mother fished in her dresser and pulled out her pajamas.  
After Elise was tucked into bed, her mother started to sing her a lullaby. When her mother was sure she was asleep she got up from the bed, still singing until she closed the door.  
Her parents began to walk to their own bedroom when her mother stopped walking, she tried to take a breath in but struggled.  
Her father turned around and looked at his wife worriedly. "Marie?"  
Her mother suddenly fainted. Her father started to panic and called for John. He opened his door, rubbing his eyes. "What? What is it?"  
"Call an ambulance!" His father yelled, holding his wife, trying to wake her up.


	2. Mr. Holmes

Elise sat outside the hospital room. She just celebrated her twelfth birthday, unfortunately, there was nothing to celebrate.   
Her mother was battling stage four thyroid cancer and wasn't doing well, she was given four weeks at most, that was three and a half weeks ago.   
Her father let her in the room to say goodbye. The girl couldn't hold back her tears when she approached her mother's bedside.   
"Don't cry." Her mother said. She was connected to machines that were keeping her alive. Her head was covered with a colourful scarf.   
Weakly she lifted her arm for Elise to take her hand.   
"Don't cry." Her mother said again.  
"But your dying," Elise said, sniffing, she rubbed her nose on her sleeve.   
"I know, but I don't want to see you crying, I want to see you smiling, can you smile for me?"   
Elise managed a weak smile.   
"I want you to promise me something, Elise."  
Elise nodded to confirm that she was listening.   
"No matter how hard it gets, no matter how hard you want to give up, promise me you'll continue doing what you love. You have a gift, my darling. I've never seen anyone take on the arts like you have and excel in every aspect. You're a genius, my darling. Don't forget that." Her mother continued to ramble on and on. Elise nodded, she was listening to every word, even if her mother was repeating herself.   
"And I want to tell you a something, something that'll help you through everything life will throw at you. Be brave, be kind, my darling.   
Oh, Elise, you are so kind, so very kind and gentle, and that has power, more than you know."   
Elise sniffles and smiles through the tears.   
"I will mummy."   
"Good, good girl." She squeezed her hand as tightly as she could. "I want to give you something," she said. She moved the blanket to grab a little box.   
Elise opened it and took out the necklace, a silver locket with the words 'I love you' written on its outside. "Your necklace?" she asked her mother, holding it in her hands.   
"Yes." Her mother said, "it was mine, and now it's yours and when you wear it you'll think of me, and know I'll be with you always." Her mother's eyes flashed to her father.   
"I have to go soon, my darling."   
Elise shook her head. "Don't go, not yet, please."   
"I'm sorry, please forgive me."  
"Of course I forgive you." The girl reached down to hug her mother. Her father joined her on his knees and embraced both of his girls.   
Shortly after, on March 1st, her mother died, John arrived shortly beforehand to say his goodbyes, he was an even bigger mess than his little sister. Harry, however, arrived too late. She didn't get to say goodbye.

Time passed, and pain turned to memory.  
Her brother John continued to study medicine, but Harriet left home, no one really knew where she went, she would keep in touch some of the time but never visited. So it was just Elise and her father in the house, it was quiet and cold most days, her father worked long hours and she was either at school, work or sitting on an empty stage somewhere playing the violin or the cello to forget the world around her, it would work for a while, until security kicked her out.   
When the two would be home, everything was uneasy. Her father disapproved of her aspirations to become a professional artist.   
"No daughter of mine will waste her life away doing something so pointless." He would say. She would respond with "art is not pointless!" Or she would say nothing at all.   
Shortly before she turned fifteen he had enough, she would either work to enter the medical field or leave the home.   
Elise had nowhere to go so she gave into her father, so by eighteen, she was enrolled in medical school. And so she became a doctor like her brother. On her first day she stared at her scrubs and held the locket in her hand, she remembered her mother and the promise she made. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, mum." She whispered and dressed for work.   
But by that point, her brother became an army doctor and was stationed in Afghanistan. It was hard for her to say goodbye when he left, she had hugged him and didn't let go until her father pulled her away from her brother. Her sister had gotten married that year too, to a woman named Clara. They were in touch for a while before Harry cut her off again, never had a soft spot for her little sister.

In 2007 she was on shift at St Bartholomew's hospital when she got the call saying that her father was in a fatal car crash and died on scene.   
Her friend Molly found her crying in the hallway and offered her flat for the night. She took her up on the offer. In the weeks to come she buried her father alone after futile attempts to reach her sister Harry. She wrote to John but didn't get a letter back. After the funeral, she sold the house and got a small one bedroom flat near work, in a matter of months the place was covered in artwork of all mediums and every single pair of her jeans had paint on them.   
When 2008 came about she was dating one of her colleagues but it didn't last. She tried again later that year, but he left again because of 'apparent emotional baggage.'   
So she gave up on a relationship for now and just focused on her work. 

 

John came home after three years with a shoulder injury and a limp. Elise was the only one there to greet him.   
She smiled brightly when she saw him. She ran up to hug him but was careful not to put much pressure on his shoulder.   
John looked around like he was expecting someone.   
"She's not here, John."  
"Why not?"   
Elise sighed and helped him with his bags.   
"She took up drinking and her wife is...well, you can imagine how she's feeling." She said and opened the car door.   
"Are they going to be alright?" Elise shook her head and got on the driver's side.   
"I talked to Clara, Harry wants a divorce."  
"A divorce?"  
"Yeah, apparently Harry cant take her nagging."   
John scoffed, Elise, pulled out of the parking lot and got on the road. "Okay, tell me where I'm going." 

\-   
"This place is bloody awful...this isn't permanent is it?" Elise said, putting his suitcase down on the floor by the small and dismal bed in the corner. As a matter of fact, the whole bedsit was dismal and depressing.   
"I mean you could always stay at my flat while you look for somewhere else, perhaps somewhere with a little more colour."  
"Elise, I'll be fine."   
"Tell that to the tremor in your hand."   
"How did you...?"  
"Extraordinary attention to detail."  
"Right, I forgot about that."   
Elise sighed and opened his case. "Well, I should at least help you unpack first." 

 

Shortly after he came home, her brother began to see a therapist. She told him to start a blog. Harry got in touch with him then and stayed in touch, she even gave him her old phone. When he told Elise about this she looked at him sadly but he just shrugged. 

One afternoon she was on lunch and went downstairs to see if Molly wanted to grab a bite to eat when she saw a man with curly brown hair, he was looking intensely through a microscope on the table.   
"Hello?"  
His head snapped up and he gave a smile and went back to work.   
"Who are you? I don't believe I've seen you around the hospital before."   
Before he could answer Molly walked in.   
"Elise! Hi."   
"Hi, could you explain who that is using hospital equipment? When he is in fact, not a doctor." Elise said, not in a joking mood.   
"That's Sherlock Holmes, no one knows how he got access here, he just kind of showed up."  
"So you let him stay?"  
"Yes."   
Sherlock stared at Elise, 'five-foot-one, six and a half stone, eye-bags suggest late nights, nails are clipped short and are bare, fingertips are calloused from a string instrument.' His thoughts were interrupted.   
Elise hummed and turned back to Sherlock.   
"Nice to meet you, Sherlock."  
"Likewise, Miss Watson."  
"How?"  
"Read your name-tag."   
Elise looked down at the tag that was pinned to her scrubs. "Oh."   
"I can also tell that you don't enjoy being a doctor but you became one to please your father, when really you wanted to be an artist, your mother supported the idea until she died when you were a child, you wear the necklace she gave you probably on her deathbed probably saying something sentimental like 'I'll always be with you.' You have a brother that was in medical school at the time but he actually wanted to be a doctor. You have another sibling, possibly older that you don't along with. Your father passed away recently and now you're looking after your brother while he readjusts to civilian life after being deployed in Afghanistan."   
Elise crossed her arms. "Is that all?"  
"For now, yes." He said looking up with a small smile.   
"You're cheeky." She said in a playful way, making the man chuckle.   
She went to sit across from him on the stool.   
"So, what do you do Mr. Holmes?"   
"I'm a consulting detective." He said.  
Elise laughed. "There's no such thing."  
"I invented the job."  
"Okay, and what is it that you do, Mr. Consulting Detective?"   
"When the police are out of their depth, they consult me, happens more often then one would think."   
Elise was staring are him intensely now, hazel eyes scanning every part of his face.   
"What are you doing?"  
"Engraving your face into memory." She said with a smile. "Just in case." She whispered with a wink and turned back to Molly.  
"Molly? Lunch?"   
She stopped staring at Sherlock and responded to the question rather awkwardly and they left the morgue, not before they ran into Mike.   
"Hi, Mike."  
"Elise, Molly." He said before continuing on his way. 

\-   
"So how's your brother?" Molly asked.   
Elise shrugged and picked up her drink. "He's doing as well as he's able, seeing a therapist every now and again. He's looking for a bigger place, that bedsit is awful."   
Molly was quick to change the subject. "So how was your date with Charlie?"  
Elise sighed, "Molly, I love you and I appreciate the effort but I'm no good at dating, we most likely won't be having a second date."  
"Oh, but I thought he was a good match for you."  
Elise shook her head. "No one's a good match for me."


	3. Doctor Watson

Elise went to get coffee when she saw Molly pouring herself a cup.   
"Hey." She said and grabbed her mug.   
"Hi." She said, putting two sugars in the cup.   
"You don't take sugar."  
"It's not for me."  
Elsie looked at her friend confused.   
"It's for Sherlock." She said. Elise's face lit up. "He's here today?" Elise met him a few more times during the last month and rather enjoyed talking with him.   
"Yeah, I better get back."  
Elise grabbed her mug. "I'll come with you."   
"Oh, okay."   
Down in the lab, Sherlock is talking to her brother which makes her freeze and almost spill her coffee.   
"John?"   
He turns around and smiles. "Elise! I thought it was your day off?"  
"I'm covering, I'm here until midnight."   
Molly walks over and hands Sherlock the cup.  
"Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you." He said and handed John his phone. Elise raised her eyebrows. "You let him use your phone?"  
"Yeah well...he said his had no service..."   
Elise rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee.   
"So whatcha doing here, John?"  
"Well-"  
Sherlock interrupted him. "How do to feel about the violin?" His question was directed at John.   
He laughed, "Well I had to listen to Elise play for ten years so I guess I'm used to it."  
A little smile tugs on Sherlock's lips. "Good, I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you?"   
Elise looked at the boys, confused, she went to sip her coffee but she was interrupted by the buzz of the intercom. "Doctor Watson to the Emergency Department. That's Doctor Watson to the Emergency Department."   
Elise sighed and put her mug down. "Gotta dash, I'll see you later." She waved goodbye and got upstairs as fast as she could. She was directed to a middle-aged woman who said she had been vomiting all morning. A nurse handed her the woman's chart.   
"Good morning Mrs. Barley, I'm Doctor Watson." Her eyes scanned everything the nurse had written.  
"So this started this morning?"  
"Yes, right when I woke up, I just had horrible stomach pain! I couldn't control it, so my husband drove me over where I have been waiting for several hours before someone could see me."  
Elise smiled at the woman, "sorry about the wait, we seem to be quite busy today."   
"So it would seem."   
Elise gave the papers one more look through. "Did you eat something the night before that might have caused this?"  
"Not that I can think off, we did visit this God awful restaurant the night before, I tell you, Doctor, the food was atrocious."  
Elise hummed. "Is there anything else you've experienced since that night?"  
The woman thought for a moment. "Well, I did have a headache and some nasty cramps in my lower abdomen."  
"Chills?"  
"Not that I can recall."  
"I know this sounds unpleasant but have you had any diarrhea?"   
The woman thought for a moment.   
"Now that you mention it..."   
Elise hummed again and checked for a fever.   
"This sounds like food poisoning to me, the best you can do is take it easy, drink plenty of water and rest. It'll pass in a couple days."  
"Thank you, Doctor."   
Elise left her with the nurse and went to where she was needed again.   
A mother and a young child of perhaps three years old were waiting for her.   
Elise was given another clipboard.   
"What can I do for you today, Mrs. Parker?"  
"Well last night I was trying to put Janie to bed last night but she was being so fussy and wouldn't stop crying so I asked her what was wrong. She just kept tugging at her ear and saying 'hurt.'"   
"Has your child had a cold recently?"  
"Yes."   
"Might be an ear infection," Elise said to the nurse and grabbed her otoscope. She smiled sweetly at Janie. "I'm just going to check your ears okay? I need you to stay still for me."   
Looking through she could visibly see the buildup of fluid in the middle ear, in the eustachian tube.   
She stood up straight and confirmed it was an ear infection.   
"I could recommend antibiotics unless you want to let it go away on its own, it's up to you, I like to give my patients options, one or the other."   
Mrs. Parker looked at her daughter and nodded. "Antibiotics seem to look a good idea." 

-  
Elise stared at the clock by the receptionist desk. It was almost midnight, which meant that her shift was almost over. She blinked and the clock chimed. Smiling she clocked out and got into her car and drove home. 

                                      -  
Elise parked outside, right in front of Speedy's. She stepped on the little step and knocked on the door. An older lady opened the door. "Hello?"   
Elise smiled at her. "Hi, I'm John's sister, he said he told you that I was stopping by today."   
She seemed to remember. "Oh! Yes, well c'mon in dear, it's freezing out there." She let Elise inside and started for the stairs. "Ooo-hoo! John! You have a visitor! It's your sister!" She called and opened the front door. John walked over to his sister and the first thing she noticed was his lack of cane.   
"I thought you..."  
"Turns out it was psychosomatic."   
Elise nodded. "Huh." She began to look around the flat.   
"It's messy but it's a grand step up from that dismal bedsit." She said, walking over to the window, but something caught her eye, a violin. She picked it up off its stand and gave the E string a pluck, it was a little out of tune so she turned it quickly before turning to the other two.   
"Do you mind?" She asked.   
John just shrugged.   
Elise propped the instrument on her shoulder and began to play Partita No.2.   
The sound of a door could be heard slamming against the wall, seconds later Sherlock bursts into the living room and sees the smaller Watson playing his violin, better than he could every play, her eyes were closed and she moved with the music like she was playing from the soul, not with the head like he does. He wanted to continue to listen to her play but instead, he marched right up to her and took the violin from her.   
"Hey!" She yelled, he held the instrument above his head and peered down at the small Watson, she stared up at him, arms crossed.   
"Don't touch my violin," Sherlock said and sat down in his chair with it.   
"Sorry." She said. "I couldn't help myself, I don't get to play much right now, too many shifts and by the time I'm off work I'm too tired to pick it up. I've also neglected my cello."  
"You play the cello too?" Mrs. Hudson asked.   
Elise nodded. Sherlock looked away from his instrument towards the blonde. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were a doctor?"   
"I don't work until five. So I thought I'd come see John's new place, he did mention having a flatmate but I didn't think it was you." She answered truthfully.   
Sherlock put the violin down and got up from his chair and stood in front of her, she took a few steps back to look at his face.   
"You know each other?" John asked.   
Elise looked down for a moment, fingers playing with the sleeve of the shirt she wore under her scrubs.   
"We've met, a few times."  
"Couple months," Sherlock said, smiling at John right before he turned to Elise.   
"Would you like to accompany John and I on a case?"   
Before she could answer her pager beeped inside her purse. She grabbed it and bit her lip. "Rain check?" She asked.

 

She strolled into Bart's with a large coffee in hand.   
"You got one." The receptionist said and pointed over to a curtain. Tossing the coffee in a bin, she put on her best smile she walked in and turned to the nurse.   
"What do we got?"  
"Possible kidney stones." He said. Elise raised her eyebrows.   
"You sure?" She took the clipboard and went over everything, looking up at Mr. Bosley every once in a while, Mr. Bosley was currently looking around nervous.   
"James, I want you to schedule a blood test for Mr. Bosley for Wednesday morning."  
"Yes, Doctor."   
Elise left and moved on down the line, why weren't there anymore Doctors on this floor, it felt like she was the only one today. 

-  
"Hey Elise." Someone called, she turned around to face the person, a few of her colleagues were standing around, ready to leave. "We're going out for a couple of drinks, you in?"   
Elise shook her head. "Not tonight." She said with a smile, the group shrugged, "suit yourself." 

After arriving home Elise walked into her sitting room and shifted through charcoal sketches on her desk to find her sheet music, she was working on a new piece for the cello that she desperately wanted to finish. She sat down in her chair with her cello and tuned it, music propped up on a stand. She played through what she had already composed. She was beginning to lose herself when there was a pounding on the floor. Paying no mind she continued to play, this is the first time in months she's had enough free time.   
"Hey! Sod off!" Her neighbour yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh she stopped for the night and crawled into bed, pushing a sketch book onto the floor, letting out another sigh she picked it up, on the page was a half complete drawing of Sherlock's face, she had just begun to add the detail in his eyes when she must've fallen asleep the night before. Picking up the pencil on her nightstand she propped herself up on her headboard and finished it, smiling to herself.


	4. She's In My Chair

Her phone went off around 3 am, after a possible two hours of sleep. Elise lifted her head up groggy and checked the message, wincing at the light.   
(Busy? -SH)   
Elise groaned and wrote back, (sleeping, sod off.) Before tossing the phone somewhere on the bed and curling up again.   
In the afternoon she woke up and got ready for work before getting another text.   
(John: tea before work?)   
(Sounds lovely) she sent back.

 

John sat at a table in a small but cozy café with two cups of tea, one of regular earl grey for himself and for his sister a cup of chai tea with honey.   
Elise unwound her scarf and took her jacket off before sitting down.   
"You're not wearing your scrubs," John said.  
"I'm not on till three." She said and took the warm mug in her hands. "Where are you off too this morning?"  
"Well, I thought we'd chat a little before I have to do the shopping."  
Elise hummed and sipped her tea. "Have you got any new cases? You know after the cabbie one?"   
John sighed, "Nope." He said, popping the 'p' at the end. "Sherlock won't take a case unless he finds it interesting enough."  
"Hmm, well he texted me this morning, I don't know why."   
"What did he say?"   
Elise pulled out her phone and showed him the message.   
"He asked you if you were busy...and what did you say?"  
"I told him to sod off."  
John had a laugh at that and picked up his mug. Elise's phone vibrated and she turned it to the side to flip open the keyboard.   
"Oh, he just texted me now, he said he wanted me to remind you to get milk."   
"Why didn't he just text me himself?"  
"I don't know."   
John leaned back in his chair to gather his thoughts, looking back at his sister again she was texting with a smile on her face.  
"Is that Sherlock?"  
"No, it's um, well I have a date tonight. Molly set me up again, but he seems nice." She said and put her phone away.  
"And what is his name? This-this guy?" John asked, Elise, noticed he looked a bit strained like he hated the idea.   
"John, relax, his name is Mark, he's a pediatrician, and he seems like a good guy." She got another text, "anyway, I gotta go, I need to be in earlier. As always." She sighed and said her proper goodbyes before getting into her car. 

-  
The date was a disaster, he just talked about himself, didn't let Elise get a word in the entire time, he just kept talking about the large house he inherited, all his cars and his money, he was brutally honest about only becoming a children's doctor to hit on single mothers. Halfway through dinner she excused herself to use the bathroom and crawled out of the window, hailing down a cab because she didn't take her own.   
Now she sat in her sitting room with a glass of wine, painting the first thing that came to mind, an owl soaring above the trees, evergreens covered in snow. Soft music played throughout the space, but the serenity she had created was interrupted by her landline. Sighing she set the brush and palette down and picked up the phone. "Hello?"  
"So? How was it?" Molly asked.  
"I bailed." She admitted.  
"What? Why? He seemed so nice?"  
Elise scoffed and curled up on the couch. "Yeah in appearance maybe."   
"Oh Elise, I'm sorry."  
"Its okay, I'm not much for dating anyway. I should go, I'm in for six."   
"Oh, okay. I'll see you later."   
Elise hung up and dropped the phone on the couch. She slipped into bed for the night but she didn't sleep at all, she just laid there with her eyes closed until her alarm went off. Everything after that moment was robotic, getting ready for work, driving to work, actually working. She knew she was losing her drive for this job but she didn't know how quickly it would leave.   
Molly came to find her for lunch but she told her friend that she wasn't very hungry and that she should go ahead.   
Her brother had texted her a few times complaining that he was stuck waiting outside while Sherlock was investigating a flat. Elise smiled a little but didn't text back, instead, she just went home and finished the painting she was working on before, her phone far away from where she was in her bedroom so no one could disturb her, it was just Elise and her canvas for hours. She got up from her stool and looked at her work, from a small distance it looked like a photograph but the closer you got the clearer the brushstrokes became.   
After she washed her hands she grabbed her phone and ordered in. 

-  
After a few days, she went to go see her brother, Sherlock wasn't in at the moment so she sat in his chair with a cup of chai tea while John sat in his chair with a cup of earl grey.  
"So tell me again what happened with the cipher case." She said.  
She listened to John explain the whole thing.  
After John finished recalling everything about their previous case he asked her if she completed any paintings or anything of the sort lately.  
Elise smiled at the question and set her cup down. "Yes actually, I just finished one the other night, the date I had with that guy Mark didn't go well at all and I ended up bailing so I had to distract myself in some way and I got the idea for a winter scene, and-" she was interrupted by the door opening Sherlock walked into the flat and went straight for the kitchen. He stopped by the counter beside the stove where the kettle sat. He picked up a box. "Why do we have chai tea? I don't drink chai." He said and put the box down.   
"Elise does," John said.   
Sherlock's head snapped up and he looked out into the living room, across from John was the other Watson in his chair, her curly blonde hair was down but some were pinned away from her face, she wore casual clothing, sleeveless green turtleneck tucked into a dark skirt. Her yellow cardigan was resting on the back of his chair. Her boots were on the floor next to her so she could tuck her feet under herself.   
"She's in my chair."   
"Well, where else was she supposed to sit?" John asked.   
"In another chair." He walked up to the blonde in question and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Are you going to move?" He asked, in a polite yet irritated tone.   
"No." She said, looking up at him with a smile.   
Sherlock sighed and stomped over to the couch, he laid down and turned away from the Watson's. Elise blinked and turned to her brother. "Quite dramatic, isn't he?"  
John moved his eyebrows as if to say, "yep."   
Elise looked at her watch and untucked her feet. "I should be going anyway. I gotta work in a few hours." She said dryly. She shoved her feet into her boots and tied them up. Sherlock heard her shuffle around, he looked around, she was standing by his chair putting on her cardigan which was several sizes too large before she grabbed her bag and hugged John bye before leaving the flat.   
When a car could be heard driving away he sat up.  
"Why does she keep coming over?" Sherlock asked John who was currently putting the dishes in the sink.   
"She's my sister, Sherlock."  
"Can't you go over at her flat or something?"  
"She doesn't really like having people in her flat."  
"What? Why not?" Sherlock whined.   
"Something about a mess, paint, and vibes."   
"Paint? What does she need paint for? She's a doctor isn't she?"   
John sighed and sat back in his chair. He didn't answer, getting irritated by the number of questions Sherlock was asking.   
"You want answers, ask her yourself." He said and opened his laptop.


	5. You Drew Me?

Elise walked into the lab and smiled at her brother.   
"Elise, hi. Aren't you on shift?" He asked Elise's eyes moved between John and Sherlock before she smiled and shrugged, "on break. Shoes?" She asked pointing to the pair of sneakers on the table.   
John gave his sister a good look over, she was paler, thinner, looked like she hadn't slept well in weeks. "Elise, are you alright?"  
"I'm fine, John."  
"You don't look fine, you look like you might faint at any moment."   
Elise laughed and sat down. "Well, I'm not getting much sleep anymore not since Susie went on maternity leave and I had to fill her shifts because no one else will, and I guess I just don't have time to do the little things."  
John looked at her with his brows furrowed, "what? Like sleeping and eating?"  
Elise shrugged. "Yeah, or play the violin or the cello, or anything. Usually when I get home it's off to bed most nights. Some nights I can't sleep at all." She sighed but suddenly remembered something. "Oh shit! I forgot to check on Mr. Darcy!" She stood up, "why am I such a ditz?" She left the lab without another word.   
John looked at the doors sadly.   
"What's with the face? Why are you making that face?"   
"She called herself a ditz."   
"And?" Sherlock asked, going back to the microscope.   
"Our sister Harry used to call her a ditz. All the time and that's only scratching the surface of their relationship."   
"They didn't get along?"  
"Well Elise wanted to, but Harry was never interested."   
"So its safe to assume that she beats herself up over what happened in childhood."  
"Well, yes. My sister may come off as confident but she's not, she's a very soft person, always has been." 

                                         -  
"And how are we, Mr. Darcy?" Elise asked when she entered the room.   
The elderly man smiled at her, "I'm fairing alright, how are you, Doctor?"   
She smiled softly at him as the nurse gave her his file. "I'm doing alright."   
"If it's not to bold of me to say, you don't look well."  
"It's nothing, just a few late nights, let's check you, shall we?" 

                                     -   
Elise decided to pay her brother a visit, she did have the option to go home and sleep but she decided otherwise.   
When she got inside the glass siders were pulled out to cut off the kitchen.   
Inside Sherlock was sitting at the table going through old newspapers cutouts and photographs.   
From outside the glass, he hears the door open and shut.   
"Elise! Hi!" John said.   
"Hey."   
She took off her coat and sat down in Sherlock's chair.   
"I would've thought you'd gone home, had a bit of sleep."   
Elise shrugged. "Well, I thought I'd come see you...and Sherlock."  
John went into the kitchen and began to prepare tea. "So how is Mr. Darcy? I know you were in a rush earlier."  
"He's doing as well as someone with stage four lung cancer can, really."   
John hummed and let the tea steep. "Do you want anything to eat?"  
Elise shook her head, "no thank you, I had something at lunch." John handed her the cup and sat down in his chair, he didn't look amused. "Oh really? What?"  
"I went out and got some crisps."  
"And how much of it did you eat?"  
"Maybe about half."  
"About half?"  
"I didn't have time to finish them."   
John sighed and rubbed his face. "You need a break, seriously, take a couple vacation days."   
"I can't, we're short staffed right now, I can't just-"   
"Yes, you can," Sherlock said from behind the glass. "I talked to a few people. Three days of paid leave."  
Elise blinked and chuckled airily. "Wow, um, thank you, Sherlock."   
John's phone went off and he checked the message. "Oh for heaven's sake." He breathed and got up from his chair and slid the glass back.   
"It's your brother. He's texting me now."  
Elise put her cup down and walked over to the kitchen.   
"Must be a root canal," Sherlock said. Elise slipped into the kitchen and looked through the newspaper clips.   
"Carl Powers? I remember this...sort of. I remember the name but not much else." She looked up to see Sherlock staring at her.   
"Well I mean, I was eight. What else was I supposed to remember? Kid drowns, shoes missing?" Her eyes trailed to the shoes in the bag.  
"That's them, isn't it?"   
John sighed and shifted around impatiently. "Look, he did say 'national importance.'"   
Sherlock snorts, not looking up from his research.  
"How quaint."   
"What is?"   
"You are. Queen and country."   
"You can't just ignore it," John says sternly.   
"I'm not ignoring it. Putting my best man on it right now."  
"Right. Good." He folds his arms and nods in satisfaction, then looks at Sherlock in puzzlement. "Who's that?"   
"You." 

After John left Sherlock turned to his sister and eyed her carefully. She didn't look well at all, lost about half a stone since they first met, gracing on just six stone now. She looked exhausted even when smiling and the bags under her eyes were more prominent, made her look older than she is.   
"Are you sure you're alright?"  
"Why do you care?"   
Sherlock scoffed. "What made you think I cared?"  
"You got me vacation days."  
"Well I had to do it, John would have had a fit."   
Elise smiled a little and crossed her arms. "So what now?"  
"Hm?"  
"Well, I imagine you need help now since you sent John away."   
"You want to help?"  
"Yeah, why not? Nothing wrong with a good puzzle and I like helping people."   
Sherlock quirked a smile at her and he filled her in on all the important details. 

 

Sherlock moved to the side table and was looking through the microscope when Mrs. Hudson came by and placed two cups of tea on the table and handed Elise a cup of coffee.   
"Poison," Sherlock said suddenly.   
"What?"  
He slams his hands down. "Clostridium botulinum!"   
Mrs. Hudson flees the kitchen.   
"It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet!"   
The Watson's look at him blankly.   
"Carl Powers!"  
"Oh, wait, are you saying he was murdered?" John said. Sherlock snapped up and said something quickly about how he recruited Elise for the case before continuing on about the poison.   
"The shoelaces-"  
"Hang on, you recruited my sister?"  
"Don't interrupt me. The boy suffered from eczema. It'd be the easiest thing in the world to introduce the poison into his medication. Two hours later he comes up to London, the poison takes effect, paralyzes the muscles and he drowns."   
"What? How-how come the autopsy didn't pick that up?"   
"It's virtually undetectable. Nobody would have been looking for it."  
He has walked around the table to where his computer was lying and began to type away before continuing. "But there were still tiny traces of it left inside the trainers from where he put the cream on his feet." He types something again, Elise is standing in the corner drinking her coffee while she watched him move around and about in a sort of frenzied manner.   
"That's why they had to go."  
"So how do we let the bomber know.."  
"Get his attention."  
"And how do we do that?"   
Sherlock looked down at his watch. "Stop the clock."   
"The killer kept the shoes all these years."  
"Yes, meaning.."  
"He's our bomber."   
Elise snorted a laugh and the boys looked at her. "Sorry, this is very entertaining for me, I haven't had a laugh in days."   
The phone rings on the side table, Sherlock hurries over to it and switches on the speaker. In the car park, the woman sobs in anguish as she reads out the latest message from the pager. "Well done, you. Come and get me."   
"Where are you? Tell us where you are. "  

 

Elise wanted to come along but John made her go upstairs and sleep in his bed. When she woke up, Mrs. Hudson was downstairs making her breakfast.   
"Oh, good morning." She said, pouring tea into a cup.   
"John said you like Chai, yes?"  
Elise nodded, "you didn't have to make breakfast Mrs. Hudson, I could have managed."   
Mrs. Hudson brushed it off. "Oh nonsense my dear, its no trouble, and by the looks of yourself it appears like you haven't had a decent meal in ages." She set the plate of a full English down in front of her and the cup of tea. "It's a demanding job, being a doctor."   
"I'd imagine, and um, I hope you don't mind but I noticed your sketchbook poking out from your bag and I just thought to have a peak."   
Elise smiled, "I don't mind at all."   
"You are quite the remarkable artist, everything looks so lifelike, like a photograph you know. Do you always...?"  
"Draw in photorealism? No, I do branch out into other genres but photorealism has always been my favourite."   
Mrs. Hudson sat down across from her. "So you're a musician and an artist...what are you doing being a doctor then?"  
Elise nibbled on a piece of toast before answering, "um, my dad, he wanted me to be a doctor, he was very strict about it you see. I didn't have much of a choice, it was either be a doctor or leave the house."   
"That's horrible, I'm so sorry."  
"Its okay, it's not my ideal life but it pays the bills and I like helping people, I always have. My mother used to rave about how kind I was to everyone, and how I was such a gentle girl." Elise took a deep breath. "And then when I was eleven she died, and when I went to see her for the last time she made me promise her something, a promise I've broken. She encouraged me to be an artist after seeing what I could do. I was a genius to her, an artistic genius. This was something my parents argued on constantly."  
"And John? Where did he stand on this?"  
Elise smiled, "John wanted me to be happy, that was all that mattered to him, that no matter what I did with my life, the most important thing was that I was happy."   
Mrs. Hudson cooed and noticed the empty plate, she stood up and started to clean the dishes. Elise sat there and finished her tea. "However, I never got on with my sister, she always hated me, I was a mistake in her eyes, I wasn't supposed to have been born."  
"That's terrible, no sister should talk about her sister like that."   
Elise shrugged and got up from the table.   
"It is what it is, we haven't spoken in a long time."   
Mrs. Hudson looked at her with sad eyes but then noticed the state of her clothes. "Well, I suppose I should wash these for you."   
Elise started to protest, "Oh no, Mrs. Hudson you've already done so much I-"  
"Nonsense, now why don't you hop in the shower and I'll give you something to wear in the spare time."   
Elise nodded and walked towards the bathroom. She undressed and passed Mrs. Hudson her clothes before getting in the shower. It was her first proper shower in at least a month, not like the quick ones she took, this time she could actually take her time and enjoy it, there was no rush.  
When she got out there was a knock on the bathroom door, Elise opened it enough to take the folded clothing. "These are Sherlock's, he never wears them, not sure why he has them."   
"Thank you."   
When she was significantly dry she pulled on the blue pajama pants and long sleeve grey shirt before stepping out into the kitchen, tripping on the hem of the pants, they went way beyond her feet and made it look as though she was wearing a dress. She grabbed her bag and sat at the kitchen table again and pilled out the paperwork she took with her.   
"Oh." Mrs. Hudson tutted, "you're on vacation, dear. Put the work away."   
"I know but if I don't do at least some of it now then I'll be drowning later."

About an hour later she finished half her paperwork and settled on the couch with her knees up, sketchbook turned to a blank page. Twirling her pen in her hand she looked at the sitting room curiously and started to sketch the fireplace. Mrs. Hudson popped her head in to ask if she needed anything.   
"No, I'm fine, thank you, Mrs. Hudson."   
After a few hours of drawing, she had most of the living room down on the paper in black ink, down to every detail she could see, even the print on some newspapers. One of the key things people remember Elise for is her keen eyesight, her attention to detail. The front door opened and Sherlock immediately went for his laptop. He turned to Elise, "your still here?"   
"Yes."  
He furrowed his eyebrows, those weren't her clothes.   
"Why are you wearing my clothes?"  
"Mrs. Hudson, she said you never wear them..so..." she said with a shrug. Sherlock strode over to the couch and took the sketchbook away.   
"Hey!" She exclaimed in protest and went to grab the book but Sherlock held it high above the span of her arms, he found this quite amusing. When she crossed her arms to pout like a little child Sherlock looked at what she had been drawing, an exact copy of his living room, half complete with John's chair missing a few details.   
"Your quite the little artist aren't you?" Sherlock quipped. He started to flip through the pages.   
"No no no!" She held her arm out to grab the book but he already found the portrait of himself.   
"You drew me?" He asked, in an almost confused but flattered tone.   
"I'm sorry, couldn't help myself, I just had to draw you."   
Sherlock quirked a smile and looked over at the blonde who's eyebrows were scrunched up with worry.   
"Well, I'm flattered." He said and gave her the book back.   
Elise clutched the book to her chest. "Really?"   
Sherlock nodded.   
The pink phone Sherlock has in his possession rang.   
The man on the other line sounded distressed. "He said you can come and fetch me."  
And like that Sherlock and John were gone, leaving Elise in the cozy flat alone.   
Putting down her book she found his violin case and popped it open, looking out the window to see them get in a cab. A smile twitched on her lips as she tuned the instrument and placed it on her shoulder and began to play.


	6. This Is Chai, You've Given Me The Wrong One.

The door swung open and Sherlock walked into the flat with a man she's never seen before. Elise set the teabag in the water and walked into the living room.   
"You're still here?" Sherlock said Elise crossed her arms. "Yes, I'm still here, John wants me to stay put so I'll sleep and eat and won't attempt to go back to work, actually I quite like my little vacation." She said playfully. She smiled at the man. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Sherlock?"  
"Oh yes, I probably should. Lestrade this is John's little sister Elise, Elise this is Lestrade."   
Lestrade went to shake her hand, "its Greg, pleasure to meet you and may I say you are awfully beautiful."  
Elise looked away shyly and tucked her hair behind her ear, "oh, thank you."   
Around them, Sherlock is setting up a crime board.  
"Connection, connection, connection...there must be a connection," Sherlock said under his breath. The wall is covered with paperwork: maps, photographs of Connie Prince, both when she was alive and pictures were taken in the morgue. Photos of Carl Powers, press cuttings and various sheets of paper with notes scribbled on them. Pieces of the string are pinned between some of the exhibits, linking them together.   
"Carl Powers killed twenty years ago. The bomber knew him, admitted that he knew him. The bomber's iPhone was on stationery from the Czech Republic. First hostage from Cornwall; the second from London; the third from Yorkshire, judging by her accent. What's he doing? Working his way around the world? Showing off?"   
The pink phone starts ringing. He takes it from his pocket and puts it on speaker.   
"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Joining the ... dots." The old woman sobs on the other end. "Three hours...boom...boom." She sobs again and the line goes dead.   
Sherlock looks at Lestrade for a moment, then switches off the phone, puts it back in his pocket and raises his hands to his mouth in the prayer position, concentrating on the wall in front of him.   
Elise hands Lestrade a cup of tea.   
"Oh, thanks."   
She smiles and goes to hand one to Sherlock but he brushes it off.   
Elise excuses herself and goes upstairs to take a nap when she wakes up the flat is empty again. She grabs the empty mugs from the living room, Sherlock must've drunk the tea before heading out. She hums to herself while she cleans the dishes and then grabs her book and curls up in Sherlock's chair and starts to draw, its Sherlock of course with Lestrade, looking at the crime board earlier. 

When the boys got back to Baker Street, Elise was asleep, curled up in Sherlock's chair her sketchbook long forgotten, what he had been drawing was near completion, but the ink wasn't fully dry so Sherlock knew she wasn't fast asleep, only just. He woke her up gently by John's instructions and she moved around to the couch and curled up there. 

In the morning she made the boys tea while they watched the news on the telly.   
"The explosion, which ripped through several floors, killing twelve people..."  
"Old block of flats," John said over the telly. Elise hands both of them cups and pulls out one of the chairs from the table behind her.   
"A spokesman for the utility company..."  
"He certainly gets about," John said.  
"Well, obviously I lost that round, although technically I did solve the case," Sherlock said and picked up the cup but gave it a sniff and frowned. "This is chai, you've given me the wrong one," Sherlock said, Elise lowered the cup from her lips as she was about to sip it before she chuckled to herself. "Sorry, I was distracted by the telly." She switched the cups. "I can be kind of ditzy, don't mind me." Her voice was soft and with hints of self-loathing in her tone. John looked around, "your not a ditz." He said with a smile, hoping to brighten her mood. She shrugged and pierced her lips.   
"So, if you solved it, why did the old lady die?" She asked.   
"She died because she started to describe him. Just once, he put himself on the firing line."  
"What d'you mean?"   
"Well, usually, he must stay above it all. He organizes these things but no one ever has direct contact."   
"What...like the Connie Prince murder, he-he arranged that? So people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?"  
"Novel," Sherlock says softly.   
John looks at him in disbelief, then turns and looks at the TV screen again, which has moved on to a new story.   
"Huh."   
He jerks a finger towards the screen and Sherlock looks up to see Raoul de Santos being bundled out of Kenny’s house by police officers. The press is there and are shoving each other as they struggle to get close to Raoul and take photographs while interviewers shout questions. The headline on the screen reads: 'Connie Prince: man arrested.' Raoul is shoved  
into the back of a police car. John looks around at Sherlock, who is looking down at the pink phone. Elise gets up from her spot and puts her cup in the sink.   
"Taking his time this time," Sherlock said. Elise walked back into the living room and collects the other empty cups.   
John looks away, clearing his throat uncomfortably. On the TV, the camera is focussing on Kenny who is standing at the window of his house, holding Sekhmet in his arms and watching the chaos outside.   
"Anything on the Carl Powers case?" John asks.   
"Nothing. All the living classmates check out spotless. No connection."   
"Maybe the killer was older than Carl?"   
"The thought had occurred."  
"So why’s he doing this, then...playing this game with you? D’you think he wants to be caught?"   
Sherlock presses his fingertips together in front of his mouth and smiles slightly.  
"I think he wants to be distracted."   
John laughs humourlessly, gets out of his chair and heads towards the kitchen.   
"I hope you’ll be very happy together." He says.   
"Sorry, what?"   
John turns back, furious, and leans his hands on the back of his chair.   
"There are lives at stake, Sherlock, actual human lives... Just...just so I know, do you care about that at all?"   
Elise looks in between the boys, standing by their chairs.   
"Will caring about them help save them?" Sherlock says, irritated.   
"Nope."   
"Then I’ll continue not to make that mistake."   
"And you find that easy, do you?"   
"Yes, very. Is that news to you?"   
"No." He smiles bitterly. "No."  
They lock eyes for a moment.   
"I’ve disappointed you," Sherlock said.   
John, still smiling angrily, points at him sarcastically. "That’s good, that’s a good deduction, yeah."   
"Don’t make people into heroes, John. Heroes don’t exist, and if they did, I wouldn’t be one of them."   
They stare at each other for a second but then the pink phone sounds a message alert.   
"Excellent," Sherlock said.   
Elise moved over to where Sherlock keeps his violin and pulls out another case, this time a white one.   
"Put down my violin," Sherlock said, staring at the phone. Elise showed him the ebony instrument. "Relax, its mine, I had Mrs. Hudson fetch it for me since John has me under unofficial house arrest." John smiles at her and turns to Sherlock.   
"What did he send you this time?" He asked.   
"View of the Thames. South Bank...somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo."   
He reaches into his jacket for his own phone.   
"You check the papers, I’ll look online."  
He looks up and sees that John is standing with his hands braced on the back of his chair and his head lowered.   
"Oh, you’re angry with me, so you won’t help."   
John raises his head and shrugs.   
"Not much cop, this caring lark." He loudly clicks the ‘k’ on the last word. Sherlock dismisses John from his mind and begins a search on his phone.   
Elise takes in the vibe of the room and takes her instrument to another end of the flat to play.   
From the front, they could hear her.   
Sherlock's lips twitch into a small smile and he resists the urge to grab his own violin and play with her, he recognizes that tune, he composed it himself. 

 

Sherlock brought Elise with them to the crime scene, John was still angry with Sherlock so he went to someone who would be happy to assist.   
They head to the river, by the time they get there Lestrade has already arrived with a forensics team. Sherlock starts to put on latex gloves as they approach the body.   
"D’you reckon this is connected, then? The bomber?"   
"Must be. Odd, though," he holds up the pink phone. "He hasn’t been in touch."  
"But we must assume that some poor bugger’s primed to explode, yeah?"   
"Yes."   
He steps back and takes a long look at the man’s body which is now lying on its back on a plastic sheet.   
"Any ideas?"   
"Seven, so far."   
"Seven?"  
Sherlock walks closer to the body and squats down to examine the man’s face closely with his magnifier. He then looks at the ripped pocket on the shirt before working his way downwards until he reaches the man’s feet. He pulls off one of the socks and examines the sole of the foot with his magnifier. Standing up and closing the magnifier, he looks across to Elise and jerks his head down towards the body in a mute order to examine it. Elise looks enquiringly at Lestrade for permission; the inspector holds his hand out in a ‘be my guest’ gesture. She squats down beside the body and reaches out to take hold of the man’s wrist while Sherlock walks a few paces away and gets out his phone.   
"He’s dead about twenty-four hours, maybe a bit longer." She looks up at Lestrade. "Did he drown?"   
"Apparently not. Not enough of the Thames in his lungs. Asphyxiated."   
"Yes, I’d agree. There’s quite a bit of bruising around the nose and mouth. More bruises here and here."  
"Fingertips," Sherlock says.   
Elise stands up and wraps her jean jacket around herself, wishing she dressed warmer.   
"Cold?" Lestrade asked.  
"Just a bit, I'll be fine." She said, smiling at him.   
"In his late thirties, I’d say. Not in the best condition." She said, continuing her examination.   
"He’s been in the river a long while. The water’s destroyed most of the data."  
He quirks a smile.   
"But I’ll tell you one thing, that lost Vermeer painting’s a fake."   
"What?" Lestrade asked, confused.   
"We need to identify the corpse. Find out about his friends and associates-"  
"Wait wait wait wait wait. What painting? What are you...what are you on about?"   
"It’s all over the place. Haven’t you seen the posters? Dutch Old Master, supposed to have been destroyed centuries ago; now it’s turned up. Worth thirty million pounds."   
"Okay. So what has that got to do with the stiff?" Lestrade asks.   
"Everything. Have you ever heard of the Golem?"   
"Golem?"   
"It’s a horror story, isn’t it? What are you saying?" Elise asks, shoving her hands in her pockets.   
"Jewish folk story. A gigantic man made of clay. It’s also the name of an assassin, real name Oskar Dzundza, one of the deadliest assassins in the world." He points down to the body. "That is his trademark style."   
"So this is a hit?"   
"Definitely. The Golem squeezes the life out of his victims with his bare hands."   
"But what has this gotta do with that painting? I don’t see..."   
Sherlock sighs, exasperated. "You do see, you just don’t observe."   
"All right, all right, girls, calm down. Sherlock? D’you wanna take us through it?" Elise says, a smile playing on her lips.   
Taking a moment before he responds, Sherlock eventually steps back and points to the body.   
"What do we know about this corpse? The killer’s not left us with much, just the shirt and the trousers. They’re pretty formal...maybe he was going out for the night, but the trousers are heavy-duty, polyester, nasty, same as the shirt, cheap. They’re both too big for him, so some kind of standard-issue uniform. Dressed for work, then. What kind of work? There’s a hook on his belt for a walkie-talkie."   
During the middle of Sherlock's rundown Elise gets a text from Molly.   
"Tube driver?" Lestrade asks.   
Sherlock throws him a look which blatantly says ‘idiot.’   
"Security guard?" She asks, not looking up from her phone as she sends a text back.   
"More likely. That’ll be borne out by his backside."   
"Backside?!"   
"Flabby. You’d think that he’d led a sedentary life, yet the soles of his feet and the nascent varicose veins in his legs show otherwise. So, a lot of walking and a lot of sitting around. Security guard’s looking good. And the watch helps, too. The alarm shows he did regular night shifts."   
"Why regular? Maybe he just set his alarm like that the night before he died."   
"No-no-no, the buttons are stiff, hardly touched. He set his alarm like that a long time ago. His routine never varied. But there’s something else. The killer must have been interrupted, otherwise, he would have stripped the corpse completely. There was some kind of badge or insignia on the shirt front that he tore off, suggesting the dead man worked somewhere recognizable, some kind of institution."   
He takes something from his pocket. Elise looks up at the boys, still typing away on her phone.   
"Found this inside his trouser pockets."   
Elise looks up, he is holding a small scrunched-up ball of paper.   
"Sodden by the river but still recognizably.."  
"Tickets?" She asks.   
"Ticket Stubs. He worked in a museum or gallery. Did a quick check, the Hickman Gallery has reported one of its attendants as missing."   
Elise puts her phone away. Sherlock points down to the body.   
"Alex Woodbridge. Tonight they unveil the re-discovered masterpiece. Now, why would anyone want to pay the Golem to suffocate a perfectly ordinary gallery attendant? Inference: the dead man knew something about it – something that would stop the owner getting paid thirty million pounds. The picture’s a fake."  
"Wow...fantastic," Elise said admiringly.   
Sherlock looked down at her and gave her a genuine, but soft smile. "Meretricious." He said.   
"And a Happy New Year!" Lestrade said.   
Elise throws him a ‘seriously?!’ look. Lestrade grins sheepishly, then Elise looks down at the body again.   
"Poor guy."   
"I’d better get my feelers out for this Golem character."  
"Pointless. You’ll never find him. But I know a man who can."   
"Who?"   
"Me." He says with a grin.   
He turns and walks away. Elise smiles widely and waves goodbye at Lestrade and half walks, half runs to catch up with Sherlock.


	7. Elise? What The Hell?

The pair sat in the cab and Sherlock is looking at the pink phone in frustration.  
"Why hasn't he phoned? He's broken his pattern. Why?"   
A thought strikes him and he leans forward to the cab driver.  
"Waterloo Bridge."   
"Where now? The Gallery?" Elise asks.   
"In a bit."   
"The Hickman's contemporary art, isn't it? Why have they got hold of an Old Master?"   
"Dunno. Dangerous to jump to conclusions. Need data."   
He then took his notebook from his pocket and now writes something on a page before tearing it out and folding a bank note inside it. He puts the paper into his pocket, then a few seconds later calls out to the driver.   
"Stop!"   
The cab pulls over to the side of the road.   
"You wait here. I won't be a moment."   
He gets out, goes to the railings at the edge of the pavement and easily vaults over them.   
Elise gets out of the cab to follow him. "Sherlock..."   
As Sherlock walks off, Elise sighs in exasperation, then scrambles over the railings and follows him. Sherlock trots up some steps to where a young woman is sitting on a bench under Waterloo Bridge. She has a large bag beside her with a handwritten cardboard sign poking out of the top. The first two words on the sign say, "HUNGRY AND". Presumably, the next word, obscured by some of her possessions, is 'HOMELESS.'   
"Change? Any change?" She asked.   
"What for?"  
"Cup of tea, of course."  
He handed her the piece of paper from his pocket. "Here you go, fifty."   
"Thanks."   
Immediately he turns and walks away again. Elise looks at him in bewilderment before turning and following, pointing back towards the girl.   
"What are you doing?"  
"Investing."   
Elise looks back to where the girl is unfolding the note and reading it. Sherlock goes to the railings and easily leaps over them again. He opens the rear door of the cab.   
"Now we go to the Gallery."   
He stops and looks back at Elise.   
"Have you got any cash?"   
Elise nods, Sherlock gets into the cab and she follows. 

The cab pulls up to the gallery and Sherlock steps out. Elise is about to follow but Sherlock stops her.   
"No. I need you to find out all you can about the gallery attendant. Lestrade will give you the address."   
"Okay."   
He closes the cab door and gives a new instruction to the driver. Sherlock walks away towards the gallery. 

At the victims home, Alex's flatmate leads Elise into Alex's tiny attic bedroom. It's messy with clothes scattered everywhere. The window in the canted ceiling looks up into the sky, and standing below it is a large object covered with a sheet.   
"We'd been sharing about a year. Just sharing."   
Elise hummed. The woman stops and gestures around the room. Elise walks in and looks around, not touching anything. She looks at the sheet-covered object and points to it.   
"May I?"   
"Yeah."   
Elise tries to lift just the top of the sheet but it slips from his fingers and falls to the floor.   
"Sorry."   
He looks at the telescope on a tripod which has been revealed.   
"Stargazer, was he?" Elise asked.   
"God, yeah. Mad about it. It's all he ever did in his spare time." She looks away sadly. "He was a nice guy, Alex. I liked him." She said and looks around the room. "He was, er, never much of a one for hoovering." She laughs nervously. Elise smiles at her, then pulls a face as she looks away.   
"What about art? Did he know anything about that?"   
She shook her head. "It was just a job, you know?"   
"Hmm." Elise hummed. She bends down and peers at the items on the bedside table.   
"Has anyone else been round asking about Alex?"   
"No. We had a break-in, though."   
"When?" Elise asks, straightening up.   
"Last night. There was nothing taken. Oh, there was a message left for Alex on the landline."   
"Who was it from?"   
"Well, I can play it for you if you like. I'll get the phone."   
"Please."   
She goes out of the room briefly and comes back with the phone and plays the message.   
A woman's voice comes through the phone. "Oh, should I speak now? Alex? Love, it's Professor Cairns. Listen, you were right. You were bloody right! Give us a call when..." the message ends.   
"Professor Cairns?"   
"No, no idea, sorry."   
"Can I try and ring back?" Elise asks.   
"Well, no good. I mean, I've had other calls since...sympathy ones, you know."  
Elise nods and Alex's flatmate leaves the room again just as Elise's phone trills a text alert. She gets out the phone and looks at the message which reads:   
(Hey lovey, are we still up for drinks later? I understand if you're busy with case stuff. Are you coming back to work tomorrow right?)   
Elise sighs and texts Molly back.   
(So sorry, but I'm a bit stuck at the moment, my brother is angry at Sherlock so I have to help him with this case. And yes I'm back at work tomorrow.)   
She put her phone back in her pocket. 

When it gets dark she heads back to Baker Street and gets out when she sees Sherlock standing outside.   
"Alex Woodbridge didn't know anything special about art." She said.   
"And?"   
"And..."   
Sherlock looks towards the homeless girl and starts to walk towards her while still talking to Elise.   
"Is that it? No habits, hobbies, personality?"   
"No, give us a chance! He was an amateur astronomer."   
Sherlock stops dead, turns and points towards the cab.   
"Hold that cab." He said.   
Elise trots back to the cab while Sherlock goes over to the girl.  
"Spare change, sir?"   
"Don't mind if I do."   
"Can you wait here?" Elise asks the cabbie.   
The girl hands Sherlock a piece of paper. Unfolding it, he sees that she has written "VAUXHALL ARCHES" on it. Smiling briefly, he turns and walks back to Elise.   
"Fortunately, I haven't been idle."   
He opens the cab door and gets in. "Come on."   
Elise climbs in and the cab heads off. 

 

At the Vauxhall arches they got out of the cab and are walking along, Sherlock buttoning his coat as he gazes up at the sky.   
"Beautiful isn't it?" Sherlock said, Elise looked up and smiled, "I wish I could paint it." She whispers.   
"Why can't you?"  
"Oh I'll never be able to remember all those stars, my memory is good but it's not that good."  
Sherlock looks down at her curiously.   
"I have a photographic memory, how else do you think I became a doctor, Mr. Holmes?"   
He chuckles and they continue walking.   
"Alex Woodbridge had a message on the answerphone at his flat...a Professor Cairns?"   
"This way," Sherlock says.   
Elise follows and looked up at him curiously.   
"Homeless network really is indispensable."   
"Homeless network?"   
"My eyes and ears all over the city."   
"Oh, that's clever."   
Sherlock flicks on a flashlight and shines it around as they continue into the darkness of the Arches. His flashlight picks out homeless people all around the place, most of them settling down for the night. Suddenly, in the distance, the shadow of a man shows on a wall as he begins to stand up. The man is incredibly tall.   
"Sherlock!" Elise whispers.   
"Come on!"   
They duck to the side of a wall while the man continues straightening up for ages until he is over seven feet tall.   
"What's he doing sleeping rough?" Elise asked.   
"Well, he has a very distinctive look. He has to hide somewhere where tongues won't wag, much."   
Elise laughs nervously, "you got anything for protection or are we just going to..."  
Sherlock reaches into his pocket and shows her a gun.   
"Very reassuring thank you."   
The man breaks into a run and hurries away down another tunnel. They chase across towards where he was and reach the tunnel just in time to see him climbing into a waiting car which immediately speeds off. Sherlock punches the air in frustration.   
"No, no, no, no! It'll take us weeks to find him again."   
"Or not. I have an idea where he might be going." Elise said.   
"What?"!  
"I told you, someone left Alex Woodbridge a message. There can't be that many Professor Cairns in the book. Come on." 

 

Sherlock and Elise race into the theatre through another door. At the top of his voice, Sherlock yells, "Golem!"   
The Golem looks up, grunts in surprise then snap Cairns' neck and drop her to the floor. Her fingers drag along the mixing desk and the footage goes into fast-forward again, plunging the theatre into darkness. The Golem ducks down out of sight.   
"Elise!"  
"I can't see him. I'll go round. I'll go!"  
As the footage continues spooling and then stopping and playing before spooling again, a light comes and goes in the room. Sherlock stares around as Elise hurries off.   
"Who are you working at this time, Dzundza?" Sherlock asks loudly. Behind him, the Golem steps out of the fluctuating darkness and clamps one hand over Sherlock's mouth and nose while gripping his neck with the other. Sherlock grabs the hand on his face, struggling to pull it free as he is slowly suffocated. Elise races over and stops in front of them.   
"Golem! Let him go!" Elise yells, terrified but is trying to be brave even though her instincts are telling her to run and hide.   
Sherlock, whimpering in his efforts, continues trying to pull the man's hand from his face. The Golem swings him around to the left and lashes out with his long right leg during a moment of darkness, kicking Elise away.   
Dropping Sherlock to the ground, he surges forward and wrestles with Elise, which isn't hard, she's less than half his size and doesn't weigh nearly as much. As Sherlock gets to his feet, the Golem shoves Elise into him, sending both of them tumbling to the floor. Sherlock scrambles up again and takes up a boxing stance in front of him, holding up his clenched fists. He swings a punch at the man but Dzundza grabs his hand and swings his other arm down heavily onto Sherlock's shoulder, dropping him to the floor yet again. The Golem follows him down and clamps both hands over his face, leaning his weight onto them. Behind him, Elise throws himself onto his back. The Golem roars, releasing Sherlock as he claws at the hobbit on his back. He stands up with Elise still clinging to his back and spins around several times before finally managing to shake her off onto the floor. As Elise groggily tries to get up, the Golem turns, picks up Sherlock and skims him across the floor towards her. Sliding across the floor, Sherlock grabs the pistol in his pocket. The Golem runs for the doors. Sherlock rolls over onto his back and fires twice towards him but the Golem makes it to the doors and disappears through them.   
"...long dead, exploded into supernovas." The narrator continues.   
As the image of a supernova dramatically explodes on the screen behind him, Sherlock angrily slams his hand down on the floor in front of him.   
When he composes himself he stands up and rushes over to check Elise for any damage.   
"Sherlock, stop it." She said, trying to swat him away. She had some bruises forming on her legs and shoulders.   
"John will have my head." He said at last. "I shouldn't have brought you with me." He leaves the auditorium angrily. Elise sighs and follows him. 

In the morning she sets off for work.   
"Hey Elise, enjoy your holiday?"  
"It was wonderful, but its good to be back." She smiled and looked for Mr. Darcy's file.  
"Where is..."  
The receptionist sighed, "he died yesterday morning."   
"What? But he was..." She asked, a little sadly but also disappointed.   
She nodded, "but you have a new one. 205."   
Elise nodded and took the file.   
Inside the nurse gave her a clipboard with new information.   
"Logan Price, came in complaining about a broken arm."   
Elise hummed, "well, in that case, lets have some x-rays taken and go from there." She smiled towards the patient. 

-  
When Elise got off work she rummaged around her bag for her keys when a hood was thrown over her head, she screamed and tried to fight off her attacker but he whisked her away into the car. She began to cry, fearing the worst. When the car stopped she sobbed louder, a man told her to be quiet.   
They led her into the pool and took off the hood, she didn't recognize the men, one of them grabbed a vest covered with wires.   
"No no no no no. Please don't."  
He just told her to shush and strapped it to her and gave her a parka and instructions before giving her the earpiece.   
She waited behind the wall, the door swung open.   
"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present. Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles, making me dance...all to distract me from this."   
He gestures with the memory stick, then begins to turn in a slow circle while he waits for a response. When his back is turned to the pool, a door opens halfway down the room. Sherlock looks over his shoulder, still holding the memory stick. And Elise Watson walks through the door and into the pool area, wrapped snugly in a hooded jacket with her hands tucked into the pockets. She turns and looks at Sherlock as the detective stares back at her in absolute shock, the first thing that he notices is the dry tears and red eyes.   
"Evening." She says.   
Sherlock's raised hand begins to lower slowly but otherwise, he doesn't move, still staring over his shoulder in utter disbelief.   
"This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?"  
"Elise? What the hell...?" He asks softly.  
"Bet you never saw this coming."   
Finally, Sherlock manages to move and starts to walk slowly towards the woman he had believed to be a friend until now. Then, with a look of despair which matches Sherlock's, Elise takes her hands from his pockets and pulls open her jacket to reveal the bomb strapped to her chest. From somewhere in the upper gallery, the point from a sniper's laser immediately begins to dance around over the bomb.   
"I could have taken the brother but the sister seemed like more f-fun..."  
She stopped to listen to the next message. "What...would you like me...to make her say...next?" Her voice quivers as she fights back tears.   
Sherlock continues to step towards her but now he is looking everywhere but at Elise as he tries to see who else is in the area.   
"Gottle o' geer...gottle o' geer...gottle o' geer." Her voice breaks on the last phrase.  
"Stop it."   
"Nice touch, this, the pool where little Carl died. I stopped him." She tries not to cringe as she listens to the next words. "I can stop Elise Watson too." He looks down at the laser point on her chest. "Stop her heart."  
Sherlock turns on the spot while he tries to look in all directions. "Who are you?"   
A door opens at the far end of the pool and a soft male voice with an Irish accent speaks from that direction.   
"I gave you my number."


	8. Jim Moriarty. Hi!

Sherlock sees a brief glimpse of a man wearing a suit and tie, but currently, he is mostly obscured by a column.   
"I thought you might call."   
Sherlock turns towards the new arrival, who now slowly walks out into the open. Elise looks around as far as she could without the fear of being shot on the spot. It's Jim, Molly's boyfriend. But this isn't the fumble-fingered casually-dressed Londoner that Molly introduced her too, this is a sharply-dressed man with immaculate hair and a murderous look on his face. With his hands in his pockets, he casually begins to stroll alongside the deep end of the pool, heading towards Sherlock and Elise. All hint of plaintiveness has now gone from his voice.  
"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket..."  
Sherlock reaches down into his trouser pocket and removes a pistol from it.  
"...or are you just pleased to see me?" Jim says.   
Sherlock raised the pistol and aiming it towards Jim. "Both."   
Jim stops and looks back at him, unafraid.   
"Jim Moriarty. Hi!"   
Sherlock tilts his head while he looks more closely at the man. Jim acts as if he needs to remind Sherlock who he is.  
"Jim? Jim from the hospital?"   
He begins to walk alongside the deep end again. Sherlock brings up his other hand to support the one aiming the gun. Jim bites his lip as if disappointed.   
"Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point."   
He turns to face Sherlock just as the sniper's laser flickers over Elise's upper chest. Sherlock briefly turns his head towards her, a questioning look on his face.   
"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty."   
He reaches the corner of the pool and stops.   
"I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see..."   
He looks surprised as if he has only just realized the connection.  
"...like you!"   
"'Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?'"   
Starting to walk forward again, Jim grins, clearly recognizing the TV show and catchphrase that Sherlock is quoting. "'Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?'"  
"Just so."   
"Consulting criminal," Sherlock says softly. "Brilliant."   
"Isn't it? No one ever gets to me...and no one ever will."   
Sherlock pulled the hammer down on the pistol. "I did."   
"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way."   
"Thank you."   
"Didn't mean it as a compliment."   
"Yes, you did."   
Jim shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I did. But the flirting's over, Sherlock..." His voice becomes high-pitched and sing-song. "Daddy's had enough now!"   
He again starts to stroll closer.   
"I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play."   
Elise is starting to feel the strain and closes her eyes briefly. Sherlock's eyes can't help but flicker across to her a couple of times as he tries to keep his focus on the man approaching them.   
"So take this as a friendly warning, my dear. Back off."   
He smiles. "Although I have loved this...this little game of ours." He puts on his London accent for a moment. "Playing Jim from I.T." He switches back to his Irish accent. "Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"   
"People have died."   
"That's what people DO!"   
He screams the last word furiously, his personality changing in an instant.   
"I will stop you," Sherlock said calmly.   
"No you won't."   
Sherlock looks across to Elise.  
"You alright?"   
Elise deliberately keeps her gaze away from her friend, presumably having been given instructions earlier about not talking to him. Jim walks forward again and reaches her side.  
"You can talk, Ellie. Go ahead."   
Refusing to specifically obey Jim's orders, Elise meets Sherlock's eyes and nods once. Sherlock takes one hand off the pistol and holds out the memory stick towards Jim.   
"Take it."   
"Huh? Oh! That!"  
He strolls past Elise and reaches out for the stick, grinning.   
"The missile plans!"   
He takes the stick from Sherlock's fingers and brings it to his mouth, kissing it.  
"Boring!" He says in sing-song.   
He shakes his head.  
"I could have got them anywhere."   
He nonchalantly tosses the stick into the pool. He chuckles as a new laser point appears in the middle of Sherlock's forehead. Elise stares in horror as Jim looks around at her expectantly. Sherlock, either seeing the edge of the laser beam shining from the gallery or realizing what's happening from Elise's expression, shakes his head slightly.  
"Gotcha!" Jim turns back towards Sherlock while brushing his hands down his suit to straighten it. He gestures to it indignantly.   
"Westwood!"   
He lowers his hands and stands calmly in front of Sherlock who is still aiming the pistol at his head.  
"D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, to you?"   
"Oh, let me guess, I get killed." Sherlock asked, rather bored.   
"Kill you?" He grimaces. "N-no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway some day. I don't wanna rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no. If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you." He runs his eyes briefly down Sherlock's body, then meets his eyes again and his voice becomes vicious. "I'll burn the heart out of you."   
His face is a snarl as he says the word 'heart' but at the end of the sentence, he looks almost regretful.  
"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one."   
"But we both know that's not quite true."   
Sherlock blinks involuntarily. Jim looks down, smiling, then shrugs.  
"Well, I'd better be off."   
He nonchalantly looks around, perhaps checking his exit route, before turning back to Sherlock.   
"Well, so nice to have had a proper chat."   
Sherlock raises the pistol higher and extends it closer to Jim's head.   
"What if I was to shoot you now...right now?"   
"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face."   
He opens his eyes and mouth wide, mimicking shock, then grins at Sherlock.  
"'Cause I'd be surprised, Sherlock, really I would."   
He scrunches up his nose.  
"And just a teensy bit disappointed. And of course, you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long."  
Slowly he begins to turn away.  
"Ciao, Sherlock Holmes."   
Looking back at Sherlock with some distaste, he walks calmly towards the side door through which Elise came earlier. Sherlock slowly steps forward to keep him in view.   
"Catch...you...later."   
The door opens and Jim's voice can be heard, high-pitched and sing-song. "No, you won't!"   
The door closes. Sherlock doesn't move for a few seconds, his gun still aimed towards the door, then his gaze drifts across to Elise and he instantly bends, putting the pistol on the floor, then drops to his knees in front of Elise and starts unfastening the vest to which the bomb is attached. She lets out a sob.   
"Alright?" He asks softly.   
She lets out a shaky breath and tries to find the words.   
"Are you alright?" Sherlock asks a little more urgently.   
She nods. "Yeah-yeah, I'm fine."   
He unfastened the vest, jumps up and hurries round behind Elise, starting to pull off the jacket and the bomb vest.   
"I'm fine." She says again.   
Sherlock, also breathing too fast, continues tugging at the jacket and vest.   
"Sherlock."   
Finally, Sherlock manages to roughly strip the jacket and vest off Elise's arms.   
"Sh-Sherlock!"   
Sherlock bends and skims the items as far away along the floor as he can, while Elise staggers.   
"Jesus." She says softly. She reaches up and pulls the earpiece from her ear. Sherlock turns and stares at her for a moment, then hurries back to pick up the pistol before racing towards the door through which Moriarty left. Elise's knees buckle and she staggers towards the nearest support, the edge of one of the changing cubicles.   
"Oh, God."   
She turns and slides down, bracing her back against the cubicle's edge while she blows out a long breath and tries to calm herself down. Sherlock comes back in, having apparently seen no sign of Moriarty outside. He starts to pace up and down near Elise, so hyper and distracted that he doesn't even realize that he is scratching his head with the business end of a loaded and cocked pistol.   
"Are you okay?" Elise whispers.   
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Fine." Sherlock responds, quick fire.   
He turns to Elise, wide-eyed and breathless. "I'm glad no-one saw that. Especially, John, she whispers.  
Sherlock had temporarily lowered his hand long enough not to be risking accidentally shooting himself in the head, although he had terrible jitters as he held the gun down by his side. Now he lifts the gun again and rubs his chin while looking down at Elise in confusion.  
"Hmm?"   
Elise still won't meet his eyes. "You, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool."   
Sherlock shrugs. "People do little else."   
He looks down at Elise, then grins. Elise snorts laughter and then leans forward and prepares to stand up. But before she can move, the beam from a sniper's laser begins to dance over her chest. Elise looks down at it and his face fills with horror.   
She starts to panic. "Oh..."  
A door near the deep end of the pool opens and Jim comes through, clapping his hands together and turning to them.   
"Sorry! I'm soooooo changeable!"   
Elise grimaces in disbelief. Sherlock keeps his back to Jim, looking up into the gallery to try and judge how many snipers there might be up there. It's becoming clear that there are quite a few because there are at least two laser points hovering over Elise and at least three more traveling over Sherlock's body. Jim laughs and spreads his arms wide.   
"It is a weakness with me but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness."   
He lowers his hands and puts them in his pockets. Sherlock turns his head and looks down at Elise, who lifts her own head to meet his gaze.   
"You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you but..." he laughs and his voice becomes higher pitched again. "everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!"  
Sherlock, who had looked away from Elise for a moment, now turns and looks down at her again, his face showing no emotion but his eyes screaming a silent request. Elise responds instantly with a tiny nod, giving him full permission to do whatever he deems necessary.   
"Probably my answer has crossed yours."   
He turns to face Jim, aiming the pistol at him. Jim smiles confidently with no fear in his expression. Slowly Sherlock lowers the pistol downwards until it's pointing directly at the bomb jacket. Sherlock's eyes narrow slightly.  
The tension is cut by the Bee Gee's song Staying Alive, Elise looks around confused.   
Jim briefly closes his eyes and sighs in exasperation.  
"D'you mind if I get that?"   
"No, no, please. You've got the rest of your life." Sherlock says, nonchalantly.   
Jim takes his phone from his pocket and answers it.  
"Hello?...Yes, of course, it is. What do you want?"   
He mouths 'Sorry' at Sherlock, who sarcastically mouths 'Oh, it's fine' back at him. Jim rolls his eyes as he listens to the phone, turning away from Sherlock for a moment,  
then he spins back around, his face full of fury.  
"SAY THAT AGAIN!" He says loudly into the phone.   
Sherlock frowns.  
"Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will ssssskin you."  
He hisses out the 's' of 'skin.' Sherlock briefly looks round at Elise.   
"Wait."  
Lowering the phone, he begins to walks forward. Sherlock looks at the bomb jacket and fretfully adjusts the grip on his pistol as Jim approaches. Jim stops at the jacket and gazes down at the floor thoughtfully before lifting his eyes to Sherlock.  
"Sorry. Wrong day to die."  
"Oh. Did you get a better offer?"   
Jim looks down at the phone, then turns and slowly starts to walk away.  
"You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock."  
He strolls back around the pool towards the door through which he originally came, lifting the phone to his ear again.  
"So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes."   
Reaching the door, he raises his free hand and clicks his fingers. Instantly all the lasers focused on Sherlock and Elise disappear. As Jim walks through the door and vanishes from sight, Sherlock looks around the gallery but apparently can see no sign of the retreating snipers. Elise sighs out a relieved breath.   
"What happened there?"   
"Someone changed his mind. The question is, who?"   
"Right now I don't care who, I just want to get out of here." She emphasizes every word, Sherlock begins to notice how genuinely terrified she is, and how she seems to resemble a mouse, all curled up by the wall.   
Sherlock helps her up off the ground, her legs are shaky, he tries to put her arm around his shoulder for support but the height difference makes it impossible.   
Instead, he sighs and bends down.   
"What are you doing?" She asks, without another word he picks her up bridal style. Elise's face turns bright red and she gets flustered leaving the feelings of terror behind.   
"Oh! Um...so-so you're just going to carry me, then?" She asked, flustered.   
"Yes."  
"Why?"  
"Well you cant walk and if I leave you here, John will have a fit." He pauses. "You won't tell John about this will you?"  
Elise lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head. "No."   
"Good."   
Sherlock carries her out of the pool and hails down a cab. Elise told the cabbie her address.   
When they pulled out she got out of the car but Sherlock didn't follow.   
"You can...you can come in...if you like." She said, "actually I'd prefer it if you did...I don't want to be alone right now."   
Sherlock took note of how fidgety and frightened she seemed, without a word he paid the cabbie and got out, following her upstairs. Her purse was right outside her door, she picked it up and grabbed her keys.


	9. We Could Play Together.

"John said you don't let people in your flat."   
Elise smiled, "well I think this time I'll make an exception."   
The door swung open and she stepped inside. Her flat was dimly lit, a couch sat against the farthest wall, a half drunk cup of tea sat on the paint covered coffee table, several artist books were stacked on the surface. She had no tv, but a record player instead that sat on a bar cart surrounded by vinyls, a radio sat on the cart too, paint covered the knobs and buttons. She had a desk in the corner, covered in charcoal drawings, other sketches, and small canvases, she kept some on the walls too. Canvases were stacked upright throughout the room. And in the middle, her easel sat, with a half complete painting of some woodsy scene in the middle of winter.   
Sherlock went about the room, looking through things. Elise stood by the door nervously.   
Just from being in her flat there was nothing that screamed 'doctor.'   
By the window sat her violin and cello, a tall stack of books sat nearby with sheet music were piled haphazardly on top, paint littered some of the pages. Looking down he smiled a little at the amount of paint that stained the hardwood.   
He looked at Elise. "Looking around...its hard to believe that you're a doctor."   
Elise smiled and set her things down. Sherlock shuffled through some of her work.   
"Well, I was kind of forced too."   
He turned around and looked at her curiously.   
She cleared her throat, "my dad um, he gave me a choice, either I become a doctor or leave, so I didn't see any other choice. You said something similar to me when we first met." She said. "My father thought art was a waste of time. My mother supported the idea, encouraged it." She walked into the kitchen and brought out a couple glasses and a bottle of whiskey. "I could use a drink, I'm not sure about you." She said a poured herself one and set it on the table. She drank it quickly and ran her fingers through her hair. Sherlock sat down on the couch next to her.   
"Where's John?" She asked.  
"He said he was going over to Sarah's, I think, I don't know, I was hardly listening."   
Elise chuckled and kicked her boots off, not worrying about the laces, and rested her feet on the edge of the coffee table.   
"I'm sorry," Sherlock said softly.   
She looked at him curiously. "What for?"  
"If I hadn't included you on this case, you would've have been in that situation."  
Elise sighed. "I think if you didn't I probably would've ended up there all the same."   
Sherlock leaned back on the couch and stared at the record player.  
"You don't have a telly?"  
"Nope." She said, popping the 'p'. 

\-   
After a few drinks, Sherlock went back to his place and Elise went to bed. She went into work like nothing happened the night before and went home after a 24-hour shift, which in the medical world is over 24 hours, she was beyond exhausted, she ignored every text or call she got from Sherlock and John and just curled up in bed.   
When she woke up again it was dark outside, she had 13 missed calls and 10 unanswered texts.   
She tossed her phone aside and got up to shower.   
This was the routine for a month.   
She decided to pop by Baker Street for a little visit.   
When Mrs. Hudson lead her upstairs John wasn't happy about being left in the dark.   
"Sorry." She mumbled, "I didn't feel like talking to anyone."   
"A month. A month Elise. Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" John said, raising his voice a little. He sighed and started to become frustrated.   
"What's going on with you, Elise? Seriously? What? One minute your fine and bubbly and the next your-your..." he groaned. "No, no, you were perfectly fine during the Alex case and then when it was over you..." He looked at his flatmate who was listening but tried not to make himself a target.   
"What happened, Sherlock?" John asked sternly, Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly. Elise sighed, "Sherlock, just...tell him."   
Sherlock explained the night at the pool, John clenched his fist and went to punch Sherlock but Elise grabbed his arm. "John no!"  
"You moron! You reckless arsehole!" John screamed. "Do you have any idea what could have happened!"   
"Oh, I have every idea," Sherlock said calmly.   
John looked as if he was about to explode.   
"Stay away from her!" John yelled before grabbing his coat.   
"I don't think I'm the one you need to worry about when it comes to staying away," Sherlock said calmly, John was breathing heavily, instead of releasing his anger any further he left the flat, slamming the door behind him.   
Elise sniffled and started to cry.   
"Stop doing that."   
"Sorry." She whispered and wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve.   
"He is right though. I was reckless, you could have been killed."  
Elise shrugged. "As terrifying as it was...it was thrilling...in a way." She said and sat down in John's chair. She looked around the room and stared at his violin. 

 

When she came back the next day she had her violin case in hand, John wasn't there.   
"Working," Sherlock said.   
Elise held up her violin.  
"What's that for?"  
"Well...I was thinking we could play together." She said quietly.   
Sherlock smiled a little and stood up, grabbing his own instrument.   
"Wait what? Really?"   
Sherlock didn't say anything, he just tuned the strings.   
Elise giddily opened her case and took her violin out and the music, propping it up on the stand.   
"Prokofiev Op 56 sonata for two violins." Sherlock read out loud.   
"What? You don't like Prokofiev?"   
"No, no, it's fine."   
Elise smiled, "well, alright then."   
They started to play, it didn't sound quite right because they were both in different places.   
"Stop." She said Sherlock's bow stopped immediately.  
"If we're going to do this we need to be on the same page or it won't sound right," she said. "You're playing inside your head." She said and poked him in the chest, "try from in here. And don't give me that impracticality speech, feel the music Sher, don't think so hard."   
She turned around and started again, Sherlock stared at her in bewilderment but played at his part. Sherlock almost became distracted by the smell of her hair, like patchouli and pine with a hint of orange and-  
"Your slipping, Sherlock." She teased and stopped.  
"Apologizes, I became distracted."   
Elise tilted her head to the side. "Distracted by what?"   
Sherlock wasn't sure what to say he just sighed like the drama queen he was and brought his violin to his shoulder again. Elise laughed and did the same. 

John got out of the cab and heard the sound of two violins, curious he stepped in and quietly went up the stairs, opening the front door. Standing in front of the window stood Elise and Sherlock side by side playing the violin.   
John cleared his throat loudly, spooking Elise, her bow went across the strings sourly.   
"Jesus! John." She put her hand on her heart. "You nearly scared me to death."   
"Sorry."   
Elise sighed and collected her music and put her violin away.   
"So, sufficiently calmed down?" She asked. Sherlock sat in his chair, plucking the strings on his violin.   
"For now, yeah." He looked around the room before looking at Sherlock, "but if you put my sister in harm's way again, I will kill you." He said in a dangerous tone.   
"Understood." Was all Sherlock said?   
Elise sighed and grabbed her things. "I should go, I got the night shift."  
She said bye and left. 

-  
Elise walked into 221b in the morning.   
"I have a day off." She said and helped Mrs. Hudson prepare breakfast.   
"Oh, don't worry about this dear, I can manage."   
Elise shook her head, "really, its no trouble."   
She handed John his breakfast first and went back into the kitchen, Sherlock looked at her, almost offended, she shrugged and he went back to his newspaper.   
While they were in the kitchen a strange man with an umbrella walked in and began talking to Sherlock and her brother.   
"The photographs are perfectly safe," Sherlock said.   
"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker."   
"She's not interested in blackmail. She wants...protection for some reason. I take it you've stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?"   
"How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied."   
"She'd applaud your choice of words. You see how this works, that camera phone is her 'Get out of jail free' card. You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft."  
"Though not the way she treats royalty." John quipped.   
Just then the sound of an orgasmic female sigh fills the room. John and Mycroft frown. Elise peers in from the kitchen.   
"What was that?" John asked.   
"Text," Sherlock says nonchalantly.   
"But what was that noise?"   
Sherlock gets up and goes over to pick up his phone from nearby.  
"Did you know there were other people after her too, Mycroft, before you sent John and I in there? CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess."  
He goes back to the table and sits down again as John looks around at Mycroft.  
"Yeah, thanks for that, Mycroft."   
Elise brings in a plate of breakfast from the kitchen and puts it down in front of Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson is not far behind with a cup of tea.   
"It's a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes." Mrs. Hudson said.   
"Oh, shut up, Mrs. Hudson."  
"MYCROFT!" Sherlock shouts furiously. Mycroft looks at their angry faces glaring at him, then cringes and looks contritely at Mrs. Hudson.  
"Apologies."   
"Thank you."   
"Though do, in fact, shut up."   
Elise steals a piece of bacon off Sherlock's plate which earns her a glare before she turns to Mycroft.   
"So...who's this?" She asked.   
"Go on, introduce yourself, Mycroft." Sherlock encourages blandly.   
"I'm Mycroft Holmes."   
"Elise Watson."  
Mycroft looked at John then Elise. "Siblings I presume?"   
"You'd be correct, John's my big brother."   
Sherlock's phone sighs orgasmically again. Elise turns around and flashes him a look that reads 'really?'   
Mrs. Hudson, who was going back into the kitchen, turns back.   
"Ooh. It's a bit rude, that noise, isn't it?"  
"There's nothing you can do and nothing she will do as far as I can see."   
"I can put maximum surveillance on her."   
"Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her username is 'TheWhipHand.'"   
"Yes. Most amusing." His phone rings and he takes it from his pocket.  
"'Scuse me." He walks out into the hall. Sherlock watches him leave, frowning suspiciously. John looks at him.  
"Why does your phone make that noise?"!  
"What noise?"   
"That noise...the one it just made."   
"It's a text alert. It means I've got a text."   
"Hmm. Your texts don't usually make that noise."   
"Well, somebody got hold of the phone and apparently, as a joke, personalized their text alert noise."   
"Hmm. So every time they text you..."   
Right on cue, the phone sighs orgasmically again.  
"It would seem so."   
"Could you turn that phone down a bit? At my time of life, it's..."   
Sherlock puts down the phone again and goes back to reading the paper which is showing the headline 'Refit for Historical Hospital'   
Mrs. Hudson sighed and turned to Elise, would you like some breakfast?"   
Elise smiled, "why don't I make it, you go rest."  
She managed to get Mrs. Hudson out of the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea and sat across from Sherlock at the table.  
"I'm wondering who could have got hold of your phone because it would have been in your coat, wouldn't it?"   
Sherlock raises his newspaper so that it's obscuring his face.  
"I'll leave you to your deductions."   
John smiles.  
"I'm not stupid, you know."   
"Where do you get that idea?"   
Mycroft comes back into the room, still talking on his phone.   
"Bond Air is go, that's decided. Check with the Coventry lot. Talk later."   
He hangs up. Sherlock looks at him.  
"What else does she have?"   
Mycroft looks at him enquiringly.  
"Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn't be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There's more."  
He stands up and faces his brother.  
"Much more."   
Mycroft looks at him stony-faced. Sherlock walks closer to him.  
"Something big's coming, isn't it?" Sherlock asked.   
"Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours. From now on you will stay out of this."   
"Oh, will I?"   
"Yes, Sherlock, you will."   
Sherlock shrugs and turns away.  
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend."   
Sherlock picks up his violin. "Do give her my love." He begins to play the National Anthem, 'God Save The Queen.' Mycroft rolls his eyes, turns and leaves the room, Sherlock following along behind him while John grins. As Mycroft hurries down the stairs, Sherlock turns back and walks over to the window, still playing.   
Elise smiles and steals more food from Sherlock's untouched breakfast.   
"Stop stealing my food."  
"Well start eating then." She said with a smile.


	10. You're Distracting.

Winter came around quickly, and it was Elise's favourite time of year for many reasons; cozy sweaters, snow, hot chocolate, Christmas...her birthday. after the incident at the pool Sherlock and Elise became closer, they would play together, she'd join him on cases that John couldn't, he'd visit her at work and promised to stay out of the way and failing most of the time or they would simply hang out at either her flat or his. Sherlock enjoyed her company more than he should, he liked the way she smelled more than he should and how warm and soft her skin felt on his when they'd accidentally touch. He thought he was beginning to lose his mind. Sometimes she'd invade his mind when he was thinking or making a deduction.   
On the first December he noticed a small change in her attitude, she seemed happier, more alive, that's when John told him that the winter months were her favourite. Sherlock looked out the window and smiled a little, looking for her familiar black Kia pull up. 

It started snowing on the drive to Baker Street, Elise smiled and parked outside Speedys. She tapped her boots on the side before stepping in.   
Inside the flat Sherlock had the fire going.   
Elise brought her cello this time, the two thought they sounded better together. John liked to watch them play, but after a while, he noticed a small change in his friend when she was around, Sherlock was softer, more gentle, patient.   
Elise took off her coat and hugged her favourite boys, even if Sherlock was stiff and hugged back awkwardly.   
John sat in his chair and listened to them play.   
They finished the duet and Elise put her cello to the side and stretched in her chair.   
"That was nice." She said and stood up.   
Sherlock nodded in agreement.   
"Sher? You okay? You've been acting kinda off?"  
"Off?"  
"Yeah, off."  
"I'm not, I'm perfectly fine, I'm just thinking." He said defensively.   
Elise frowned and sighed, "well I'm going to make some hot chocolate." She said and walked into the kitchen. John got up in his chair and walked into the kitchen.   
"Isn't that mum's old recipe?"   
Elise nodded, "I made it every year, remember?"  
John smiled, remembering family Christmases. "I remember."   
She kicked John out of the kitchen while she made the delightful chocolate drink. She poured the contents into festive mugs.   
"Sherlock?" She called. He hummed in response, typing away on his laptop. "Do you want whipped cream?"  
"For what?" He asked, droning out the question.  
"On the hot chocolate."  
"Oh yeah, sure, whatever."   
Elise sighed and handed John his mug and set one beside Sherlock.   
She sat down on the couch and went inside her head.

                                          -   
Elise's phone beeped behind her, she stopped painting and set her brush down, picking up her phone she read the text.   
(Come outside, dress warmly. -SH)   
Smiling she washed her hands quickly before tossing on her winter clothing and grabbing her bag. Sherlock was standing outside.   
"Hey." She said, "what's up?"  
Sherlock sniffed, "well I was just thinking how you have a day off and I don't have a case, perhaps we could check out some of those...winter festivities you enjoy so much."   
Elise chuckled and crossed her arms.   
"Do you want to go, Sherlock?"  
"No, of course not."  
"Then why are you offering?"   
"Because you want to."  
Elise smiled up at him and he grabbed a cab. She wanted to stop by the winter's market.   
"I want to look for gifts, I already got John something, I haven't gotten Molly or Mrs. Hudson anything yet and you, in particular, are hard to shop for." She said.   
"Am I?"   
"Mm-hm."  
"Can I ask you something?" Sherlock said after a while of walking in silence.   
"Yeah, sure?"  
"Why do you enjoy it so much? Christmas?"  
Elise smiled and grabbed his arm, Sherlock looked at her with shock and confusion as she gripped his arm lightly.   
"Because Christmas is a time for family and friends...not to mention it's my birthday so that's another good reason."   
She said and looked up at the twinkling Christmas lights and lit up shops. The sun had set behind the clouds and it was beginning to get dark.   
Elise saw a stand for hot cider so she dragged Sherlock along. She paid for two and handed Sherlock one of them.   
"What is this?"  
"Hot apple cider." She said, she noticed how Sherlock seemed to be studying the liquid.  
"Have you never had it?"  
"I don't know, or if I did I don't remember. I probably deleted it."   
Elise laughs, "well blow on it first, don't want to burn yourself." She said in her usual soft, caring tone.   
Sherlock looked around at the people around them and cautiously blew on the drink, trying to avoid looking like an arse before taking a sip, he made a face.   
Elise smiled and sipped her own. "Don't like it?"  
"It's bitter." He said.   
"No, it's not." She said, her attention was stolen by a cart full of colourful ornaments. Again she dragged Sherlock over to look at them all. Sherlock rolled his eyes and scowled a little at her childish antics. But when she stood upright holding a ceramic Christmas stocking his scowl melted at her smile.   
"Isn't it cute Sherlock?"   
He just nodded and she went on looking.   
"John and I are going getting a tree tomorrow." She said after a while. Sherlock snapped around to look at her. "What why?" He asked, sounding a little defensive.   
Elise paid the man for a few ornaments and looked up at Sherlock.   
"Because its Christmas. And I'm spending Christmas with you guys this year."   
"There's no room."   
Elise sighed, "we'll find space."   
Sherlock opened his mouth to complain more but Elise stood up on her tip-toes to shove a piece of chocolate in his mouth.   
He pulled away in surprise and bit down on the treat, taking the other half and examining it.   
"That's good, what is that?"  
"A peanut butter cup." She said with a laugh.   
Sherlock shrugged and finished it.  
The two went about sampling treats, Elise even bought a few to take home.   
Somehow the pair ended up at the museum. The ice rink was lit up in blue lights, snowflakes were projected onto the ice and were disturbed by skates. Elise got an idea, Sherlock figured it out right away.  
"No." He said.   
"Oh, why not?" She pouted.   
"I will not embarrass myself by doing something so mundane."  
"But its fun." She said, "please please please please please please please please please please please please please."   
Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. "Fine, if it'll get you to be quiet."  
Elise squealed and rented skates. Sherlock was on the ice before she was. She walked up to the frozen water and...hesitated.   
"What's wrong?" Sherlock said.  
"It just occurred to me that I forget how to skate." She said.   
"You can't be serious, Elise."   
She swatted her hand at him and stepped onto the ice rather shakily, like a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time. "I got it, I got it." She said, "its just going to take me a moment."   
"Would you like some help?"  
Elise laughed, "wow, Sherlock Holmes asking me if I need help, it truly must be Christmas." She teased. Sherlock sighed, "I will not ask again, do you want help or not?"   
Elise took note at the irritated tone in his voice and took his hand. He led her around the rink slowly. "I think I'm good." She said after a while and moved on her own, Sherlock kept close behind. Elise looked behind herself and started skating backward.   
"Before you could barely stand, and now you decide to show off?"   
Elise shrugged but she tripped on someone's abandoned glove and was going to fall but Sherlock grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him, she collided with his body and was staring at his scarf, her head tilted up she couldn't exactly see his face, just his chin. Sherlock looked down, Elise was looking at him with large eyes, in the mix of green and brown she had little golden flecks that looked like stars. He looked at her very seriously like he was thinking about something, something important.   
"Are you gonna kiss me or not?" She whispered.   
"No.," he said and moved away, skating ahead of her.   
She smiled sadly but chased after him anyway. "Thought so." She said. 

When they got in the cab Sherlock directed the cabbie to baker street.   
The flat was cozy and warm, the fireplace was on and there were several little decorations on the mantle.   
John was sitting in his chair, writing his blog when the door shut.   
"Elise? I didn't expect you." He said and stood up to greet his sister.   
"Sherlock took me around London. I brought back some of those tarts you like." She said and went into the kitchen. "And I got some cute things for the tree." She put the box down on the counter and took off her coat.   
John was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. "Sherlock took you out, huh?"  
Elise sighed and stopped folding her scarf. "John, it's not like that. Sherlock and I are friends."   
"But he likes you."   
Elise laughed and filled the kettle with water.   
"Oh don't be ridiculous, John."   
John sighed, "its not.." his eyes flickered over to the table in the living room where Sherlock was sitting. "It's not ridiculous. He likes you, a brother picks up on those things."   
Elise just shook her head and continued to make tea. John sighed and sat back down in his chair. 

Setting Sherlock's cup down on the table she noticed his violin case, it was tatty and well worn, this gave her an idea, she knew exactly what she was getting Sherlock for Christmas.   
Looking out the window she waited to see a cab drive by but nothing. She sighed, "hey is it okay if I crash here for the night?" She asked. "It doesn't seem like there are any cabs running."  
"You can take my bed," Sherlock said without breaking eye contact with his computer screen.   
"But...where will you sleep?" She asked.   
"Oh, I don't think I'll get to sleep tonight."   
Elise nodded and sat back down. Sherlock stood up almost immediately after and went into his bedroom, he came back with the blue pajama pants and grey shirt she wore the first time she stayed here. "You can wear these again, I can't get your smell out."   
Elise took the clothes and blushed a little before excusing herself to change. She walked back to the living room and almost tripped on the pants. Sitting in her chair again she pulled her legs up and rolled up the hem enough where she could see her socks again. Bending down she grabbed her bag and pulled out her sketchbook and took a pen off the table and watched Sherlock's fingers as they moved across the keys. She smiled to herself and sunk down lower in the wooden chair, her shins pressed against the table. Her pen started moving across the paper as she drew his hands. She wondered what it would be like to hold them. John looked up from his laptop and smiled at the scene laid out for him, they seemed to content with each other, no words had to be exchanged between them.   
Sherlock looked away from his laptop, Elise was staring at the paper, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, pen cap in her mouth as she drew, he wondered what had captured her fancy, whether it be something on the table or out of her head.   
"Quit staring at me." She whispered softly.   
"Why?"   
"Its distracting." Her lips quirked up into a smile.   
"You're distracting."   
"Am I?"  
"Yes." He paused, "what are you drawing?" He asked.   
Elise snapped the book shut and put it back in her bag. "Nothing."   
Sherlock eyed her suspiciously and went back to his work.   
He waited for Elise and John to go to bed before he swiftly grabbed her bag off the ground and set it down on the table, he knew somewhere in his mind that it was wrong to go through her things but he was curious. He took the book and opened it, starting on the first page. Her first sketch was of Molly Hooper in blue ink, under it by her signature she wrote 'my best friend.' In her soft handwriting. The next one was a latte that she probably ordered at some point.   
Sherlock looked through them and found most of them boring until he found the first sketch she drew of him. The next one was of himself and Lestrade during the Carl Powers case. The one after it was Sherlock typing away on his laptop. She drew him a lot, he wasn't sure if he should be flattered or creeped out by this. He found her most recent entry, his hands on his keyboard. The detail was extraordinary, like looking at a photograph. Sherlock took his snooping further, he wondered what kind of things she carried with her on a daily basis.   
Wallet, keys, Chapstick, pens, pencils, violin strings, a granola bar, pager, name-tag. His bedroom door opened, he rushed to put everything back before she shuffled into the living room. She was barely awake he noticed, stumbling about. She crawled onto the couch and curled up on a single cushion. Sherlock sighed and walked over to put her back to bed when he went to shake her awake she pulled him down on the couch, quite possibly mistaking him for a blanket at first but in her sleepy mind, she quickly realized that it was not a blanket but was, in fact, a person.   
"Sorry." She mumbled.   
Sherlock was trapped, she was holding onto his arm.   
"Its fine, do you think you could move so I could get up?"   
He didn't get a response.   
"Elise?"   
She snored softly.   
Coming to terms with his predicament he shuffled around until he was comfortable. Elise shifted and put her head on his chest. Sherlock's heart was racing a million miles a minute, he tried to slow his heart rate so he wouldn't wake her, but the only thing that flashed in his mind was the thought of John walking in on them.


	11. Happy Birthday

Elise woke up before Sherlock on the couch, and she was thankful that John was not awake yet. She propped herself up and rubbed her eyes, she looked down at Sherlock's sleeping face and smiled, she lowered herself down again and moved the curls away from his face gently with her finger. He woke up and groaned, blinking to get a sense of his surroundings and looked down at Elise.   
"Good morning." She whispered.   
"Morning."  
"Breakfast?" She asked and got off the couch, Sherlock sighed at the loss of her body heat.   
He sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose.   
"Morning," John said, stepping into the kitchen.   
"Morning John." She said while measuring the correct amount of flour to put in the mixing bowl.  
"What's for breakfast?"  
"I was thinking pancakes."  
"Sounds great," John said and sat down in his chair.   
The quiet morning was disturbed by Elise screaming and slamming the fridge door. The boys turned around.  
"There is a hand in the fridge! A hand!" She said. "Sherlock, what the hell?"   
The detective just smiled a little.   
Mrs. Hudson walked into the flat and put the paper down on the table and entered the kitchen right when Elise was plating John's breakfast.  
"Anything I can help you with dear?"  
"Could you make sure that doesn't burn while I give this to John?"  
"Sure thing."   
Elise put the plate down in front of John and the bottle of syrup. 

After breakfast, Elise was standing in the bathroom getting ready to go tree picking with John. He knocked on the doorframe.   
"Ready to go?"  
"Yeah." She said and put her mascara back in her bag and followed John into the living room, she grabbed her coat and turned to Sherlock.   
"Okay, we're off. Be good Sherlock."   
He scoffed and they left the flat.   
When they were gone Sherlock opened his violin case and took out the piece he was working on, simply called 'Elise'. He didn't know what to get her for Christmas, he could have gotten her art supplies or a new record but that would have been too predictable. He worked on it all morning.  
At about one in the afternoon, he heard voices downstairs.  
"We're back," Elise said, helping John with the tree. It was a nice Norway Spruce, it had a good shape and didn't have any unflattering gaps. They set it down for now while they looked for a spot.   
"I was thinking, over there maybe," Elise said, gesturing over to the right window. "We could move that bookcase, put it in storage for now, you boys can do so that bit." She said John nodded, "sounds like a plan, Sherlock come help?"  
He looked at them, "why?"  
John sighed, not wanting to play that game. "Sherlock." He said again in a sterner tone.   
Sighing loudly he set his violin down and got up from the chair.   
Elise monitored while they moved it downstairs and into the storage room by Mrs. Hudson's kitchen.   
Sherlock helped John put the tree in the stand, then Elise banned them temporarily from the tree so she could decorate it the way she wants. 

 

"Jesus Elise, how many lights does the tree need?" John asked watching her spin the second string of fairy lights around the tree.   
"Um, as many as I want, John." She said.   
She started humming a Christmas song while wrapping the tree in blue ribbon.   
Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door. "Client." She said, the man looked at Elise, she was standing on a stool, putting ornaments on the tree. "I can uh, come back later...if your busy." The man said timidly.   
"Oh don't mind her," Sherlock said and pulled out a chair for him.   
The man started telling his case. "Well it's like this, you see. I woke up this morning to find my wife gone, but all her stuff is still there, she didn't take anything-"  
"Boring," Sherlock said, cutting the man off, showing him the door. 

 

Elise stepped up on her tip-toes, trying to put the star up, she could almost reach but not quite.   
She turned around to face Sherlock, she held out the star. "Could you put this up for me?" She asked.   
"Can't you reach?"   
Elise scoffed, "no, I can't." She said, reminding him of the height difference between the two of them. Sherlock took the star and put it up top.   
"No, move it more to the left."  
He adjusted it.  
"Thank you, Sher."   
"Not a problem, and I must admit it's not as bad as I thought it would be."  He said taking a good look at the blue and silver tree. Elise chuckled, "I haven't plugged it in yet." When the tree was lit she stepped back to admire it properly.  
"There." She said proudly. "Whats the time?"  
"Just after four." He said.   
"Shit." She whispered. "I have somewhere to be. Um, I'll be back later tonight." She said and grabbed her things, rushing from the flat. 

She paid the cabbie and walked into the music store.   
"Ah, can I help you?"  
Elise walked up to the front counter quickly, "I called about an Eric Caldwell violin, under the name Elise Watson."   
The man went into the back and brought the violin out and opened the case, the case was a hard shell lined with deep blue velvet. "That'll be £5,598.23."   
Elise gawked at the price, she bit her lip and took out her card, it was for Sherlock after all.   
She was almost done with her gift, the only thing she had left to do was visit the engravers. She had an appointment for 5:30. She had his name engraved on the case as a little-personalized touch.   
She went back to her flat to drop off the instrument, shower, and dress before heading back to Bakers Street.   
Hey Elise, where did you go?" John asked when she put her coat on the rack. "I had to take care of something." She said. "I see Sherlock left the tree alone while I was gone."   
Her phone beeped and she opened the text from Molly, she smiled and sat down on the couch, Sherlock and John watched her text for a full ten minutes without stopping.   
She got up off the couch and started dinner, a simple chicken soup, nothing special. But it was nice in the cold weather.   
"So, any new cases while I was gone?" She asked.   
"None, a few people came by but Sherlock found them boring."   
Elise hummed, "well he should find a case soon, don't want another incident involving a gun and defenseless wall."  
"The wall had it coming." Sherlock said with a small smile.   
Elise put the soup on simmer and sat down on one of the tables chairs, the boys were watching telly, which she found no interest in. She was never interested in telly. She reached for the remote and switched channels.   
"Oi!" John protested and tried to grab the remote but she held it over her head.   
"The Grinch is on and I want to watch it." She said and tucked the remote into her shirt.   
John sighed heavily and sunk back in his chair.   
"I hate The Grinch."  
"Suck it up." She said. 

                                        -  
John suggested she'd met up with Molly so they set a lunch date, John had convinced Sherlock to have a Christmas party for Elise's birthday. He was reluctant at first but eventually agreed.   
When she left the flat John asked Sherlock what he was getting her, he admitted that he couldn't find anything in the shops he thought she'd like so he composed a piece for her and played it for John and Mrs. Hudson to get their opinion.   
Mrs. Hudson thought it was marvelous.   
Sherlock was worried that it wasn't good enough and had thought about ditching the idea and maybe getting her a piece of jewelry instead but John shook his head. "That would be the last thing she'd want Sherlock, my sister has never been into materialistic things, she enjoys the simple things. She'll love it, Sherlock." He said. 

During lunch, Elise talked about the violin she got Sherlock for Christmas. A look of disappointment flashed on her face.   
"You okay? Molls?"  
"Yes, fine, I'm fine." She said and stabbed her lunch.   
"Your not fine, whats the matter?" Elise asked Molly sighed, "its just well...I like Sherlock."  
"Well so do I and John does too-"  
"No, I meant I...like-like him." She whispered the last bit.   
The realization struck Elise and her eyes widened. "Oh, OH!" She covered her mouth and smiled widely. "Have you told him how you feel?"   
Molly shook her head.  
"Why not?" Elise sighed, "listen, we're having a party on Christmas, for my birthday of course, why don't you come and open up to him, maybe get him a little something he might like and just be open." 

                                         -   
On Christmas eve Elise went home to wrap the presents she got her friends and family before grabbing an outfit for the day. 

Back at Baker Street, she put the gifts under the tree and Sherlock peered in from the kitchen, curious.   
Elise noticed and stood with her arms crossed.   
"Those don't get opened until tomorrow." She said sternly.   
Sherlock sighed and went back to his experiments.   
"What are you doing anyway?" She asked and walked into the kitchen.   
"Exposing human eyes to common household chemicals." He said nonchalantly like it was a normal thing to do in the kitchen.   
"...oookay." She said and went to make herself a cup of tea. "You want one, Sher?"  
"Please."   
She made a chai for herself and an earl grey for him.   
"I invited Molly," Elise said.  
"Invited her, where?"  
"To the Christmas party? My birthday." She said. Sherlock's head snapped up, "are we still having that?"  
"Yes, we are." She said, poking him in the cheekbone, he scrunched up his nose and went back to his experiment. 

                                          -  
Elise slept in Sherlock's bed again, she was woken up by John singing happy birthday. She groaned and covered her head with a pillow.   
"Sod off." She mumbled.   
John sighed and pulled Elise out of bed. She groaned loudly, borderline yelling.  
"C'mon I made your favourite. Crepes with strawberries and whipped cream."   
That seemed to perk her up a little.   
He sat his sister down at the table and served her breakfast. Sherlock was sitting on the opposite end of the table, John cleared his throat, Sherlock looked up at his friend who gestured to Elise with his head. Sherlock looked at him blankly for a moment and remembered. "Oh, right, happy birthday, Elise."  
"Thank you, Sherlock." She said, popping a strawberry in her mouth.  
"So, what's the plan for the day?" John asked. "I'm going to make dinner," Elise said. John sighed, "but it's your birthday."  
"And I want to make dinner, I still have mum's recipes."   
"All of them?"  
Elise nodded.   
"I quite miss the cranberry stuffing." John said longingly.   
"And I'm making a blueberry pie like she did." Elise took a deep breath in, "every year."   
"Mrs. Hudson was planning on making a cake." John said, picking up the paper.   
"Did you tell her I don't like cake?" Elise asked, John, hummed a 'yes'.  
Sherlock looked up from his computer screen, a confused look on his face, like this was his first time hearing about it, which it was.   
"I don't like cake." She said again with a shrug.   
After breakfast she excused herself to dress for the day, a Christmas sweater, not an ugly one, this one was actually cute. She paired it with jeans and uggs.   
She walked into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves she took the blueberries out of the fridge and got to work. 

 

By the early evening John's new girlfriend, Jeanette arrived first. Lestrade was not far behind.   
Sherlock was walking around the flat playing 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' on his violin.   
Mrs. Hudson is sitting in his chair with a glass in her hand, watching him happily. Lestrade is standing at the entrance to the kitchen holding a wine glass, and John, walks across the room with a cup and saucer in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. As Sherlock finishes the tune with a fancy flourish, Lestrade whistles in appreciation.   
"Lovely! Sherlock, that was lovely!"   
"Marvellous!"   
Sherlock sketches a small bow to his audience. Mrs. Hudson, apparently a little bit squiffy, giggles up at him.   
Elise comes out of the kitchen.   
"Oh! Elise! Why don't you play something for us now." Mrs. Hudson said encouragingly.   
"I think Sherlock is quite content on entertaining and I-"  
"Oh c'mon Elise." Lestrade said, "just one little tune."  
Elise sighed and held her hands out for the violin. Sherlock handed it to her and she began to play 'Carol of the Bells.'   
The room was silent, there was something magical about her when she played, maybe it was because she had her eyes closed or that she felt every note and moved with the bow.   
When she finished she opened her eyes, everyone was staring at her, mouth open.   
"Oh, my God." Lestrade said.   
Elise blushed and lowered her head.   
"Elise that was..." John couldn't find the words. "God, I didn't know you could play like that."   
Sherlock was the most impressed, he looked at her adoringly while Mrs. Hudson gushed over her piece.   
Elise handed the violin back to Sherlock. "I should probably finish dinner." She said and went back into the kitchen.   
"Wow..." Lestrade whispered and made goo-goo eyes at John's sister, he noticed of course and glared at Lestrade who cleared his throat and pretended to look at something else in the room.   
John's girlfriend comes by and decides to serve the mince pies Elise made earlier, and brought them around the room.   
She offers it to Sherlock.   
"No thank you, Sarah." He said.   
Her face falls. John hurries over to her and puts his arm around her as she turns away.   
"Uh, no, no, no, no, no. He's not good with names."   
"No-no-no, I can get this."   
The woman puts the tray down and straightens up, folding her arms and looking at Sherlock rather grimly.  
"No, Sarah was the doctor; and then there was the one with the spots; and then the one with the nose; and then ... who was after the boring teacher?"  
"Nobody." Jeanette said.   
"Jeanette!" He grins at her. "Ah, process of elimination."   
John awkwardly leads Jeanette away. Sherlock looks across to the door as a new arrival comes in.   
"Oh, dear Lord." Sherlock said.   
Molly walks in, smiling shyly and carrying two bags which appear to be full of presents.   
"Hello, everyone. Sorry, hello."   
John walks over to greet her, smiling.   
"Er, it said on the door just to come up."  
Everyone greets her cheerfully. Sherlock rolls his eyes.   
"Is that Molly?" Elise asks from the kitchen.   
"Yes it is." John said, Elise wipes her hand down on a towel and goes to greet her friend, the girls hug and Molly tells her happy birthday. The moment is interrupted by Sherlock.   
"Oh, everybody's saying hello to each other. How wonderful."   
Smiling at him nervously, Molly starts to take her coat and scarf off.   
John gets ready to take her coat. "Let me, er...holy Mary!"   
Lestrade gawps in similar appreciation as Molly reveals that she's wearing a very attractive black dress.   
"Wow!"   
Elise is at a loss for words, never in all their years of friendship has she seen Molly dress like that.   
"Having a Christmas drinkies, then?" Molly asks, clearly feeling nervous.   
Sherlock sits down at the dining table   
"No stopping them, apparently."   
"It's the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me, so it's almost worth it!" Mrs. Hudson said.   
Elise sits down at the table next to Sherlock and Molly can't help but notice how everything about him softens when she's around, especially his eyes.   
Sherlock starts typing on his laptop. Elise frowns.   
"What?"   
"It's my birthday." She whines playfully.   
"And?"   
She got up and shut the laptop, confiscating it. "That means no computer or working, this is the one day I get everyone's undivided attention and that includes you, Sher."   
He frowns at her and tries to get the laptop back but she puts it behind herself. In his attempts his hand falls on her hip, making her squeak in surprise. His grip tightens for a moment and as if it was an experiment, he moves his thumb ever so slightly, moving over the hem of her jeans and onto the bare skin beneath her sweater. She lets out a shuddering breath and looks at Sherlock as if asking for him to touch her more.   
John cuts the awkward silence by asking Molly if she wants a chair. She's still staring at Elise and Sherlock who are still having a moment, she doesn't hear John the first time, she tunes in around the second time.   
Sherlock took the moment of distraction to take the laptop back. Elise sighs and gets herself a drink and sits down in John's chair.   
"John?"   
"Mmm?"   
"He goes over to see what Sherlock is looking at. Lestrade touches Molly's arm to get her attention.   
"Molly?"'She turns to him. "Want a drink?"   
She accepts his offer, John leans over Sherlock's shoulder to look at the screen.   
"The counter on your blog: still says one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five."  
"Ooh, no! Christmas is canceled!" John said, pulling a mock-angry face.   
Sherlock points to the side bar which has one of the press pictures of him in his deerstalker.   
"And you've got a photograph of me wearing that hat!"   
"People like the hat."   
"No, they don't. What people?"   
He continues looking at the laptop as John walks away. Molly turns to Mrs. Hudson.  
"How's the hip?"   
"Ooh, it's atrocious, but thanks for asking."   
"I've seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems."   
An awkward silence falls. Molly looks embarrassed.  
"Oh, God. Sorry."  
"Don't make jokes, Molly."   
"No. Sorry."   
Lestrade hands her a glass of red wine.  
"Thank you. I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas."   
"That's first thing in the morning, me and the wife. We're back together. It's all sorted."  
"No, she's sleeping with a P.E. teacher," Sherlock said without looking away from the laptop.   
Lestrade's smile becomes rather fixed. Molly turns to John who is sitting on the arm of his armchair. Elise is twirling her whiskey around in her glass, trying to ignore the sudden awkwardness.   
"And John. I hear you're off to your sister's, is that right?"   
"Yeah."   
"Sherlock was complaining."   
Sherlock raises his eyebrows indignantly. Molly corrects herself.  
"...saying."   
"First time ever, she's cleaned up her act. She's off the booze."   
"Nope."   
"Shut up, Sherlock," John says, irritated.   
Elise looks up at him. "You're going to see Harry? Why didn't you tell me?" She asks her brother, feeling hurt about being kept in the dark.   
John fights with himself, he doesn't want to tell her but he has to. "Harry said that she doesn't want to see you."  
Elise nods sadly and turns her attention to her drink, "I understand." She said and finished it in one go, getting up to get another.   
Mrs. Hudson sighs, "poor girl." She says.   
Sherlock starts speaking again, directed at Molly. "I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you're serious about him."   
"Sorry, what?"   
"In fact, you're seeing him this very night and giving him a gift."   
"Take a day off," John says quietly.   
Lestrade takes a glass across to the table and puts it down near Sherlock. "Shut up and have a drink."   
"Oh, come on. Surely you've all seen the present at the top of the bag – perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best."   
He stands up and walks towards Molly, looking at the other presents which aren't so carefully wrapped.   
"It's for someone special, then."   
He picks up the well-wrapped present.  
"The shade of red echoes her lipstick, either an unconscious association or one that she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has love on her mind. The fact that she's serious about him is clear from the fact she's giving him a gift at all."   
John looks anxiously at Molly as she squirms in front of Sherlock.   
"That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn; and that she's seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she's wearing." Smiling smugly across to John and Jeanette, he starts to turn over the gift tag attached to the present.   
"Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts..."   
He trails off as he looks down at the writing on the tag.  
Elise comes out of the kitchen, eyebrows furrowed, looking at Sherlock disappointedly.   
"You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always."  
As she fights back tears, Sherlock turns to walk away, but then stops and turns back to her.   
"I am sorry. Forgive me."   
John looks up, startled and amazed at such a human reaction from his friend. Sherlock steps closer to Molly.  
"Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper."   
He leans forward and gently kisses her on the cheek. The moment of apology is instantly ruined by the sound of an orgasmic sigh. Molly gasps in shock.   
"No! That wasn't...I – I didn't..."   
"No, it was me."   
"My God, really?"   
"What?"   
"My phone." He says defensively.   
He reaches into his jacket pocket to get the phone. John narrows his eyes.  
"Fifty-seven."  
"What?"  
"Fifty-seven of those texts, the ones I've heard."   
"Thrilling that you've been counting."   
He picks up a small box wrapped in blood-red paper and tied with black rope-like string.   
"'Scuse me."   
He walks toward the kitchen.  
"What – what's up, Sherlock?" John asks.   
"I said excuse me."  
"D'you ever reply?"   
John went to go check on Sherlock and Molly started gathering her things.  
"Oh, you're not leaving, are you Molly?"  
"Yes, um, sorry, sorry." She left the flat.   
Elise huffed and sat down in John's chair.   
"Dammit, Sherlock." She whispers.


	12. What The Hell Are You Doing?

When Sherlock got back Elise was sitting in his room playing the cello.   
He sighed and sat on the bed next to her, she kept her eyes closed.   
"I ruined your birthday, didn't I?"   
Elise scoffed, "it was going fine until you opened your mouth." She said, her bow followed the tone of her voice, making some angry notes.   
"I'm sorry." He said.   
Elise peeked at him. "Say that again."  
Sherlock rolled his eyes.   
"I said I was sorry."   
Elise stopped playing. "Good, that's all I wanted to hear, now I can give you your present." She said and hurried off to the living room. She came back with a rectangular present in blue paper wrapped in a silver ribbon.   
"You may want to stand up while you open this." She said, he stood and took the box, opening it very carefully. The outside of the case had his name engraved on the front in gold lettering. He opened it and gasped, a new violin sat in blue velvet.  
"Elise..."  
She was picking at the palm of her hand, "well I-I just thought...your old one was looking kinda dull...and well...your case was practically falling to pieces and I-" he cut off her rambling.   
"Thank you, Elise."  
She smiles at him. "Your welcome Sher."   
Sherlock took a deep breath and sat her down again.   
"Now it's my turn." He said.   
Elise was confused, Sherlock quickly tuned the violin and brought it to his shoulder. He started to play the song he composed. John heard the music and peered inside, his sister was sitting on the end of the bed and Sherlock was in front of her playing the new violin that sounded better than his old one. Elise closed her eyes and listened, she could hear herself in every note, like she was playing, the song was sweet but sad but happy. But with that she could hear how he felt about her, whether that was intentional or not, it was confusion, adoration, the list goes on.   
When the song ended Elise opened her eyes and wiped away tears.   
"Sherlock...that was...I..." she couldn't find the words instead she just said, "thank you."   
She got on her knees on the bed, Sherlock put the violin down, realizing she was going in for a hug.   
"Thank you." She said again.   
"You could have gotten off the bed," Sherlock said.   
Elise laughed. "That would have been an awkward hug."   
"Point made." He said.   
John smiled and left them be, retiring to his room. 

When they pulled away Sherlock put his violin away and was going to leave the room when Elise grabbed his wrist.   
"Do you...do you maybe want to stay in here? For tonight."  
"But, where will you sleep?"  
"In...in the uhh...bed." She whispered, looking away from Sherlock. "With you..."   
Sherlock looked around the room nervously, "well that would hardly be appropriate, now would it?" He said.  
Elise sighed, "we slept together on the couch before."  
"As I recall, you pulled me onto you."   
Elise crossed her arms. "I just...I don't want to be alone..." she said quietly.   
Sherlock finally gave in and made her cover her eyes while he changed. She was tempted to look and gave in, she caught his back, he was thin but toned from what Elise guessed was from running all over London. Her eyes traveled down to his butt, she squealed quietly and covered her eyes again.   
"You can look now."   
She opened her eyes, he was dressed in a grey shirt and pants. Elise looked around nervously. "It's um... it's my turn now...so-so cover your eyes." She said Sherlock did what he was told. She took off her sweater and jeans but kept her underwear on as she walked over to where she kept the pajamas Mrs. Hudson gave her and the small collection of her clothing that seemed to have manifested in Sherlock's wardrobe.   
Sherlock heard her shimmy her pajama pants on and snuck a peak. She was skinny, borderline underweight for her height, but she had curves to her body.   
Her hands went behind her back and she unclasped her bra, taking it off and putting it aside. She turned around, Sherlock wanted to yell at her to stop and look away but he remained glued to his spot as she put her shirt on. Her breasts were larger than he had expected, but then again he never really looked before because he never really cared.   
"You can look now." She said.   
He removed his hand and they crawled into bed, a good distance away from each other.   
"Good night." She said and rolled over.   
Sherlock remained on his back and just stared at the ceiling.   
Sometime during the night, he looked over at her, she was deeply sleeping, judging by breathing pattern alone. Something bold overtook him, he shifted his body until he was behind her, bending his legs to fit with hers, the heels of her feet brushed against his shin.   
Sherlock's mouth twitched as he wrapped his arm around her waist and tucked the other one under his head. Elise sighed in sleep and pushed herself closer to Sherlock and grabbed his finger with her hand.  
He marveled at how small her hand was for a second but was interrupted by her arse brushing against him. He froze, there was a weird and unfamiliar feeling in his lower zones. Sherlock carefully separated himself from Elise and went back to his side of the bed, but shortly after she moved, putting her head on his chest and holding his torso like a pillow, Sherlock sighed, he was going to be trapped again because he didn't want to risk waking her.   
Sherlock barely slept a wink all night, he managed for a while, but her foot brushed on his leg. His first thought was to push her away so she could sleep or leave the bed entirely, he silenced those thoughts and just bared it.   
"I hate you." He said suddenly, she hummed, "no you don't." She mumbled.   
"How long have you been awake?"   
"Not long." She sighed and opened her eyes to look at him.   
"What time is it?"  
"Just after five."   
Elise groaned and closed her eyes.   
"Don't you have work today?"  
"No, tomorrow." Her right hand moved to rest on his chest near her head. "Though I do suppose we should get up now."  
"I agree."   
She sighed and separated herself from him, he watched her shuffle from the bed and into the bathroom. Sherlock heard the shower running and thought he might as well shower with her, save water. 

Inside the clothes, she was wearing was neatly folded on the counter by the sink. Sherlock slipped off his own clothes and stepped inside. Elise felt a presence in the shower, she turned around and opening her eyes and screamed at Sherlock, rushing to cover herself with the shower curtain.   
"What the hell are you doing?" She said, in a demanding tone that reminded him of her brother.   
"Showering."  
"I can see that!" She snapped. "But if you haven't noticed I'm currently in the shower!"   
He continued on like he didn't hear a word she said, "no need to cover yourself, I'm familiar with female anatomy."  
Elise looked at him curiously, "and how exactly are you familiar with female anatomy, Mr. Holmes? Ever had a girlfriend?"  
"No."  
"Do you want one?" She asked quietly.  
"No idea." He answered truthfully, now are you going to shower with me or not? We're running out of hot water."  
Elise sighed and removed the curtain. Sherlock's eyes trailed up and down her body, she was different than Irene, much different, softer, fuller in areas, she had more curve to her hips, and a fuller chest, he noticed last night but he didn't get to see them up close until now.   
In fact, she was opposite to Irene in almost every way, she was more modest, softer, shy. She wasn't as smart as Irene, or maybe she was, it was hard to tell with her. But the more Sherlock stared and the more he observed he was beginning to realize that he prefers her, but can't do anything about that now can he? Not with John being so protective over here, and if he could see them right now, Sherlock probably wouldn't make it out of the bathroom alive.   
"Sherlock?" Elise asked, trying to get his attention. "Are you um...gonna shower with me or not? We're running out of hot water."   
"Oh yes, of course," Sherlock said and picked up a tin, it had Lush written across the top and inside it housed a circular bar of something, but he recognized the smell.   
"Oh, that's mine," Elise said and took the tin from him.   
"Why is it in my shower?"  
"Well, John said since I sleep over so much that I should keep some of my things in here."   
"What is it anyway?" He asked and watched as she took it from the container.   
"Shampoo." She said and started washing her hair.   
'Shampoo?' Sherlock mouthed, he watched her was her hair with it, she set it up on its side in the tin and bent down to put it aside to dry. Sherlock looked away while she did this.  
"Your turn." She said and picked up his shampoo bottle, she knew it was his because John wrote his name on the other bottle. 

They managed to shower without any incidents, when they got out Sherlock wrapped her in his robe on the door and took the towel. Elise shook her hands in the air to find her hands in the sleeves so she could tie the robe around herself.   
From outside the door, they heard John call their names, Elise's eyes widened in horror and she looked at Sherlock, who looked equally afraid, well as afraid as he could be.   
"How are we going to get out of here?" She whispered to Sherlock.  
"Elise?" John called again, she sighed and composed herself.  
"Yes, John?" She called.   
"Are you almost done in there?"  
"Yes."   
"Have you seen Sherlock? He's not in the flat."  
The two looked at each other for a moment.   
"No, no I haven't." She lied. "Maybe you should ask Mrs. Hudson, maybe she knows where he went."   
"Yeah, okay."   
He left the hall, they waited until the door shut before they left the bathroom.   
"Jesus, that was close." She said and sat down on the bed. They dressed and went out into the living room.   
When John came back, Sherlock was up by the window, playing and Elise joined him with her cello. They only thing John noticed out of the ordinary was a sense of awkwardness and equally wet hair.


	13. Baker Street Girls.

In the morning, Elise was polishing the wood on her cello and Sherlock was sitting at John's computer and John himself was reading the paper.   
Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs. "Good morning."   
"Morning Mrs. Hudson." She said without looking up.   
"How about some breakfast?" She asked when they finished their tune.   
"Sounds lovely, I'll help you," Elise said, putting her cello away and joining Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen.   
Sherlock stood up and grabbed his violin. 

He played throughout breakfast, not touching his.   
"Lovely tune, Sherlock. Haven't heard that one before." Mrs. Hudson said.   
"You composing?" John asked.   
"Helps me to think."   
He turns back to the window, lifts the violin and begins to play the same tune again.  
"What are you thinking about?"   
Sherlock suddenly spins around and puts down the violin. He points at John's laptop.   
"The counter on your blog is still stuck at one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five."  
"Yeah, it's faulty. Can't seem to fix it."   
Sherlock took the camera phone out of his pocket. "Faulty or you've been hacked and it's a message."   
"Hmm?"   
He types something into the phone and the enthusiasm in his eyes dies. "Just faulty." He said. He turns away and picks up his violin again.  
"Right."   
Sherlock begins to play the sad tune once more.  
"Right. Well, I'm going out for a bit."   
Sherlock doesn't respond. John turns and walks to the kitchen where Mrs. Hudson is tidying up. Elise sips her tea and listens in on the conversation.   
"Listen, has he ever had any kind of..." he sighs, "girlfriend, boyfriend, a relationship, ever?"   
"I don't know."   
"How can we not know?"  
"He's Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said, "but the two of them seem rather cozy don't they?" She said, looking out to the living room, there was a tension between them but it was the sort one would usually feel between a pair of lovers usually.   
John hummed. "Right. See ya."   
He left the flat.

 

Later on, Elise is helping Mrs. Hudson clean up, she started in the kitchen while she took the downstairs.   
But after a moment she could hear loud noises and screaming coming from downstairs.   
"Mrs. Hudson?" She called, "Mrs. Hudson? Are you alright?"  
She went to check but the front door slammed open. Two of the men had Mrs. Hudson and the other went for Elise. She tried to get away but he pushed her down, she hit her head on the kitchen table, Mrs. Hudson let out a cry of alarm, on top of already frightened out of her mind and scared for her life.   
Elise groaned in pain and rolled over, only to be grabbed by one of the men, "get off me! Get off!" She screams, trying to fight them away, one of the man slaps her across the face, hard enough to leave her disoriented. 

 

Sometime later, Sherlock is walking down Baker Street towards his flat.   
As he arrives at the front door of 221B and turns to put his key in the door, his expression sharpens when he realizes that the door has been jemmied open. Slowly pushing the door open, he goes inside and carefully puts his hand onto the opaque glass window of the interior door before also pushing that one open and stepping through into the hall. Immediately he sees that the door to 221A is ajar, and partway down the hall is a plastic bucket. He takes a quick glance at the various items inside the bucket and sees that they're cleaning materials: a pair of rubber gloves, a duster, a spray can of what is probably screen and telephone sanitizer, a toilet brush and a bottle of disinfectant, and a couple of other items.   
Sherlock steps closer to the stairs and sees a couple of scuff marks on the wall just above the risers. He instantly realizes that one of the marks was made by someone awkwardly walking backwards up the stairs and having to feel their way with their feet, while the second was made by someone following the first person while facing forwards but being thrown off-balance by something. Looking more closely at the wall he sees a small indentation in the wallpaper. Putting a finger against the dent, his gaze becomes more intense as he deduces that it was formed by someone dragging their hand along the wall, clawing at it in a desperate attempt to stop themselves being hauled backwards up the stairs. The depth of the nail mark could only have been made by someone with fairly long nails, and now Sherlock knows that the person being dragged was Mrs. Hudson. Slowly he looks upwards while he visualizes her struggling as she was half-pulled and half-carried upstairs by a couple of men, a third man preceding them. In his mind, he hears her protests of, "Stop it!" at her assailants before she raised her head and cried out an anguished "Sherlock!"   
Sherlock stares intensely up the stairs and slowly, without a muscle in his face moving, his expression changes from deductive to outright murderous. Sherlock stands there for a few seconds while his rage builds, and then he gets moving.   
Not long afterward he slowly pushes open the door to the living room of 221B. In front of the fireplace Mrs. Hudson is sitting on a dining chair facing the sofa, and behind her stands Neilson, the CIA man who led the raid on Irene's house. He is holding another pistol with an over-compensatory silencer attached and is aiming the gun at the back of Mrs. Hudson's head. One of his men is standing to look out of the window but turns when the door opens; the other stands near the sliding door into the kitchen. As Sherlock slowly strolls into the room with his hands clasped behind his back, Mrs. Hudson, already crying quietly, begins to sob a little louder.  
Sherlock notices someone else is missing, someone important.   
"Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson sobs.   
"Don't snivel, Mrs. Hudson. It'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet."   
He looks at Neilson.   
"What a tender world that would be. Speaking off, where is the other one?"   
"Who?"  
"You know exactly who I'm talking about." He whispers darkly. Neilson whistles and the other man pulls Elise out of the kitchen, she was just as frightened as Mrs. Hudson but she had a bruise forming on her cheek.   
Mrs. Hudson is sobbing quietly. "Oh, please, sorry, Sherlock."   
"I believe you have something that we want, Mr. Holmes," Neilson said.   
"Then why don't you ask for it?"   
He walks closer and holds out his right hand towards Mrs. Hudson. She flails towards it, whimpering, and he gently turns back the sleeve of her right hand and looks at the bruises on her wrist.   
"Sher..."   
"I've been asking this one. She doesn't seem to know anything."   
He goes over to examine the bruise on Elise's cheek, the murderous rage in his eyes subsides momentarily to sadness, and he looks at her as if to say, 'I'm sorry.'   
"That pretty little blonde thing didn't know either. But you know what I'm asking for, don't you, Mr. Holmes?"   
Sherlock looks a little higher and sees a cut right on her hairline. He moves back to where Mrs. Hudson was.   
His eyes flick across to Neilson's right hand holding the pistol. He has a silver ring on his third finger and there is blood on it. Sherlock raises his head and looks directly at Neilson, but he isn't deducing him.  
"I believe I do."   
Mrs. Hudson whimpers as he releases her hands and straightens up, putting his hands behind his back again. "Oh, please, Sherlock."   
"First, get rid of your boys," Sherlock said.   
"Why?"   
"I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room."   
Neilson hesitates for a moment, then glances at his colleagues.  
"You two, go to the car."   
"Then get into the car and drive away." He looks back to Neilson. "Don't try to trick me. You know who I am. It doesn't work." He loudly clicks the 'k' of 'work.' The man holding Elise lets her go and the two men leave the room and head down the stairs.   
"Next, you can stop pointing that gun at me."   
"So you can point a gun at me?"   
Sherlock steps back and spreading his arms to either side. "I'm unarmed."  
"Mind if I check?"   
"Oh, I insist."   
Neilson comes around from behind Mrs. Hudson. She whimpers nervously. "Don't do anything." Elise is by her side now and is checking her for any extensive damage.   
Neilson walks over to Sherlock and pats his   
breast pocket and flicks the coat open while Sherlock stands meekly with his arms still spread. Walking around behind him, Neilson starts patting for any hidden weapon at his back. Sherlock rolls his eyes dramatically at Mrs. Hudson, but he is already covertly starting to bend his right arm towards himself. So fast that your transcriber absolutely can't tell where it came from, he whips out the sanitizer spray can, twists around and sprays the contents directly into Neilson's eyes. As Neilson screams, Sherlock rears back and then savagely headbutts him in the face. Neilson falls back onto the coffee table, unconscious, and Sherlock triumphantly flips the can into the air.   
"Moron."   
Slamming the can onto the dining table, he hurries over to Mrs. Hudson and, tutting, probably in annoyance at what the man has done to her, he drops to his knees in front of her.  
"Oh, thank you."   
"You're alright now, you're alright."   
"Yes."   
Sherlock looks over his shoulder towards Neilson's prone body, his expression still promising murder.  
He turned back to Elise who is standing upright now, touching her head, she's still bleeding a little but is otherwise fine. Sherlock gives her his full undivided attention now.   
The bruise on her cheek was purple and awful, he goes to touch it gingerly but she winces and pulls away.   
"I'm sorry, Elise." He whispered, "if I hadn't left this wouldn't have happened."  
Elise shrugged, "probably would have happened anyway." She said truthfully. "But the important thing is you're here now and who knows what would have happened if you showed up later than you did."   
Sherlock's eyes trailed to the kitchen table, there was blood on the edge. He sighed again and stroked her unbruised cheek.   
He turned back to Neilson and asked Elise to grab the duct tape.   
Sherlock ties and gags Neilson to the chair and writes something down on a piece of paper and leaves for a moment.   
Elise leads Mrs. Hudson to the couch and sits with her, trying to calm her shaky hands, whispering that she was alright now. Footsteps could be heard outside. "What's going on?" John asks.   
He stops at the sight of Neilson, bound and gagged with duct tape and sitting on the chair near the fireplace. His nose is broken and blood has run down his face and is dripping from his chin. Mrs. Hudson is sitting on the sofa and Sherlock is in a chair nearby, holding Neilson's pistol aimed at him with one hand, and his phone to his ear with the other.  
"Jeez. What the hell is happening?"   
"The Baker Street girls were attacked by an American. I'm restoring balance to the universe."   
John immediately hurries over to sit down next to them on the couch.   
"Oh my God. Are you both alright?" Glaring at Neilson as he examines his sisters face first. "Jesus, what have they done to you?"   
"I'm okay John, its nothing." She flinches away, he checks on Mrs. Hudson next, she breaks down in tears again, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, I'm just being so silly."  
"No, no," John says.   
Sherlock gets to his feet, still holding the phone to his ear while aiming the gun at Neilson.  
"Downstairs," Sherlock says. "Take the girls downstairs and look after them."   
John stands up and helps her to her feet.   
"Alright, it's alright. I'll have a look at that." He leaves the flat and Elise follows.


	14. Opposites

Elise walked into the flat, well it was more of a shuffle really. She dropped her bag on the kitchen table and set off for Sherlock's room, it was still quite dark outside, but the boys were still awake working on a case. Sherlock's bedroom door shuts.   
"Not even a hello?" John says. Sherlock doesn't look away from his laptop. "She was on a twenty-four-hour shift." He said.  
"And how do you know."   
"She told me."   
Sherlock looked at the clock on his phone, it was just after two.  
"Actually I think we both should go to bed." He said, standing up.  
"But the...case?"  
"It can wait until morning." He left for his room. Elise was curled up in his bed half hidden by blankets, holding a pillow. Smiling contently he dressed for bed and got in next to her, replacing the pillow with himself, she nuzzled her face into his chest. They've only done this twice before but Sherlock liked doing it, he wouldn't admit it to her of course, he didn't want to give her a reason to call him a softy. He put his arms around her this time, instead of just laying there, which she appreciated. 

In the morning John went to check on them both, they were still asleep, tangled in each other. Sherlock's arms were around her protectively while she was practically laying on top of him.   
John sighed and shut the door. John should've seen this coming, when they first played together, something unspoken that was now rising to the surface. 

-  
Elise woke up in the afternoon in an empty bed, the spot where Sherlock had been laying was cold. There was a note left on the bedside table. She sat up and unfolded the paper. 

I had to go out, I'll be back soon. I thought you'd enjoy this more than a text.   
-Sherlock.

She read, smiling she pressed the note to her chest and laid back, giggling. 

She left the bedroom eventually. She just made herself a cup of tea when the door opened. Sherlock walked through, slamming the end of a harpoon down onto the ground. Sitting in his armchair, John looks around and his eyes widen at the sight of his flatmate, who is wearing black trousers and a white shirt and whose arms, face and shirt are covered with blood, far too much blood for it to be his own. He looks round to John, breathing heavily.   
"Well, that was tedious."   
"You went on the Tube like that?"   
"None of the cabs would take me."  
"I wonder why."   
Elise comes out of the kitchen and nearly has a heart attack at the state of Sherlock.   
"Jesus!" She gasped, a bit of tea spilled on her shirt sleeve. "What happened? Why are you covered in blood?"   
Sherlock didn't answer her, he just went straight to the shower. When he opened the door Elise was standing there, waiting to take one of her own.   
"You could have just joined me," Sherlock said. Elise smiled, "well you were covered in blood." She said.   
"And?"  
She chuckled and slipped past him into the bathroom.   
"Maybe next time." She said and shut the door.   
Sherlock smiled at her offer and went into the living room. 

 

She waltzed into the commotion. Sherlock had just hurled himself onto the ground and was investigating a slipper.   
Mrs. Hudson arrives at the door and comes "Ooh-ooh!"  
Sherlock is rummaging about in the fireplace and speaking almost sing-song. "My secret supply. What have you done with my secret supply?"  
"Eh?"   
"Cigarettes! What have you done with them? Where are they?"   
"You know you never let me touch your things!" She looks around at the mess. "Ooh, chance would be a fine thing."   
Sherlock stands up. "I thought you weren’t my housekeeper."  
"I’m not."   
Making a frustrated noise, Sherlock stomps back over to the harpoon and picks it up again. Behind him, Mrs. Hudson looks down at John who does the universal mime for offering someone a drink. She looks at Sherlock again. "How about a nice cuppa, and perhaps you could put away your harpoon."   
"I need something stronger than tea. Seven percent stronger." He glares out of the window, then turns back towards Mrs. Hudson and aims the point of the harpoon at her. She flinches.  
"You’ve been to see Mr. Chatterjee again."   
"Pardon?"   
He pointed at her with the tip of his harpoon. "Sandwich shop. That’s a new dress, but there’s flour on the sleeve. You wouldn’t dress like that for baking."   
Elise rubs her face with her hand. "Shut it down, Sherlock."   
But he continues. "Thumbnail, tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads, don’t we?"   
He sniffs deeply as he finally stops aiming the harpoon at her. "Mmm, 'Kasbah Nights.’ Pretty racy for first thing on a Monday morning, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve written a little blog on the identification of perfumes. It’s on the website, you should look it up."   
"Please."   
"I wouldn’t pin your hopes on that cruise with Mr. Chatterjee. He’s got a wife in Doncaster that nobody knows about."  
"Sherlock!" John says angrily, Elise rolls her eyes and continues to towel dry her hair.   
"Well, nobody except me." He says.   
"I don’t know what you’re talking about, I really don’t." She says, upset. She storms out of the flat, slamming the living room door closed as she goes. Sherlock leaps over the back of his armchair from behind it, then perches on the seat, wrapping his arms around his knees like a petulant child. John slams his newspaper down.  
"What the bloody hell was all that about?"   
"You don’t understand," Sherlock says, rocking back and forth.   
"Go after her and apologize." He says sternly.   
"Apologise?"   
"Mm-hm."   
Sherlock sighs. "Oh, John, I envy you so much."   
John hesitates, wondering whether to rise to the bait, but eventually asks.  
"You envy me?"   
"Your mind, it’s so placid, straightforward, barely used. Mine’s like an engine, racing out of control; a rocket tearing itself to pieces trapped on the launch pad. I need a case!" He yells.   
"You’ve just solved one! By harpooning a dead pig, apparently!"  
With an exasperated noise, Sherlock jumps up in the air and then lands in the seated position on the chair.  
"That was this morning!"   
He starts drumming the fingers of both hands on the arms of the chair while stomping his feet on the floor.  
"When’s the next one?"   
"Nothing on the website?"   
Sherlock gets up and walks over to the table, collects his laptop and hands it to John, who looks at the message on there while Sherlock stomps over to the window and narrates part of it. Elise takes this opportunity to steal Sherlock's chair while he and John go back and forth.   
"Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I can’t find Bluebell anywhere. Please please please can you help?”   
"Bluebell?"   
"A rabbit, John!" He says, irritated.  
"Oh."   
"Ah, but there’s more! Before Bluebell disappeared, it turned luminous..." his voice heavy with sarcasm. He adopts a little girl’s voice for the next three words. "...like a fairy, according to little Kirsty; then the next morning, Bluebell was gone! Hutch still locked, no sign of a forced entry..." He stops and his expression becomes more intense. "Ah! What am I saying? This is brilliant! Phone Lestrade. Tell him there’s an escaped rabbit."   
"Are you serious?"   
"It’s this or Cluedo."   
"Ah, no!" He closes the laptop and gets up to put it back on the table.  
"We are never playing that again!"   
"Why not?"  
"Because it’s not actually possible for the victim to have done it, Sherlock, that’s why."  
"Well, it was the only possible solution."   
"It’s not in the rules."   
"Then the rules are wrong!" Sherlock shouts, furiously.   
The doorbell rings. John thoughtfully holds up a finger as Sherlock looks towards the living room door.  
"Single ring."   
"Maximum pressure just under the half second."  
"Client." They said together.   
Elise sighs, "I'm gonna go home for a bit, I'll be back later." She tells Sherlock. John takes a bit of offense to that, he wonders why she didn't tell him directly.   
"And perhaps we could..."   
John doesn't hear the last bit but it sounded very flirtatious. Sherlock chuckled at what she said and looked up at her, "perhaps."   
When she left the flat he turned to Sherlock angrily.  
"What?"  
"Have you been shagging my sister?" John asks, very angry, and more than willing to strangle Sherlock.   
"What? No! Don't be ridiculous!" Sherlock said as if disgusted by the idea.  
"But you want to."   
"No!" Sherlock says defensively, but even to him, there was a tone of confusion in his voice. Did he mean 'no' because he didn't want to or did he mean 'no' because he wasn't sure.   
"You like her," John said calming down a little.   
"I-"  
He was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

 

At home Elise collected her mail and went inside, putting the needle on the record already sitting there she turned up the volume and moved around the flat to the sound of The Arctic Monkeys.   
She took out a set of charcoal pencils and found an unused sketchbook, opening it she thought of what to draw first. 

\-   
Halfway to Baker Street she gets a text from John, telling her they've gone away on the case but she can still stay at Baker Street if she likes. 

She parked outside Speedys and went in.   
"Mrs. Hudson?" She called.   
"I'm in the kitchen!"   
Elise walked into 221A, Mrs. Hudson was making tarts of some kind, still clearly upset over Mr. Chatterjee.   
"Would you like a cuppa?"  
"Please."  
Mrs. Hudson started to prepare tea. "I don't have that kind you like, I hope Earl is fine."   
"Earl is fine." She said and sat down at the table.   
"So the boys have a case?" She asked, pouring hot water into cups.   
Elise nodded, "out of London apparently, John didn't tell me where."   
"I thought they'd let me know first."  
"Well according to John you were yelling at Mr. Chatterjee."  
"Sherlock was right about the wife."  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I went through a similar situation a couple years ago. We were together for a few years, though it ended because I found out that he wasn't who he said he was, not even his name was his. A con man, that's all he was."  
"Oh, I'm sorry lovey." She patted her hand.   
Elise shrugged, "you live and learn right."   
Mrs. Hudson hummed, "yes, you're right."   
She paused, her face lit up like she thought of something else.   
"I think Sherlock fancies you." She said.  
Elise giggled, "what? No...you think?"   
Mrs. Hudson nodded.   
Elise's cheeks went red and she brought her hands up to cover her face. "I fancy him, I really do."  
"Well, that was kind of obvious lovey."   
"Has it really been that obvious?"  
Mrs. Hudson nodded.  
Elise sighed, "can I admit something?"  
"Sure."  
"A while ago...Sherlock and I...showered together." She saw the look on her face and spoke quickly. "We didn't do anything! He just kinda walked in and it was to save water and well...I tried hard not to look...he's very...well endowed... let's just say." She laughed, feeling a tad embarrassed.   
"Oh my..."  
"Yeah." She said with a nod. "That's all we've really done, and shared a bed, twice, the couch once."   
Mrs. Hudson sighed, "I always had a feeling that you were for Sherlock when you walked through the door the first time."   
Elise smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I think I'm hardly the girl for him, I mean I'm no Irene Adler, I'm not a genius. I'm just a doctor who just so happens to be an artist and a musician. He's more logical, I'm more artistic, we're on opposite ends of the spectrum."  
"Well, there is that old saying, opposites attract." Mrs. Hudson looked at her reassuringly. "It'll do you no good to keep your feelings in the dark." Mrs. Hudson said and cleaned up their empty mugs.


	15. An Experiment

Sherlock and John walked into the flat to find Mrs. Hudson and Elise sitting on the couch amongst photo albums, giggling.   
"What have you got there?" John asked, Elise turned the photo album around to show him the photograph, it was John at about age 5, sitting in their grandparents' horrible floral chair.   
"He was cuter then." She said.   
John sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Can you put those away please?"  
"No," she said and invited Sherlock to sit down, he took off his coat and sat next to her. She flipped the page, there were three photographs, one was of John and then Harry and finally Elise.   
"These were taken in hospital after we were born, John was in 1973, and Harry right after in 1974 and then me, in 1981. Quite a big gap between us." She said and turned the page.  
"Is that you?" Mrs. Hudson asked.   
"No, that's my mother."   
"You look just like her."   
"So everyone says, I have our dads nose though." She sighed and closed that album and picked up another.   
"Now, onto embarrassing photos of John." She said, smirking up at him.   
John sighed, "oh for Christ's sake." He whispered, irritated.

 

She didn't hear him come in, she had her eyes closed as she worked the shampoo through her hair. He slipped into the shower and stood behind her, giving her a fright.   
"Oh! You scared me, Sherlock."  
"Sorry." He said.   
"Its okay, can you move, I need to rinse this out before it gets in my eyes."  
It was an awkward shift around.   
"So...you decided to take me up on my offer?" She asked rather shyly and was kind of glad that her wet hair was long enough to cover her breasts.   
"Yes." He said and picked up her bottle of body wash, it was from the same place as her shampoo.   
"Bubbly?" He opened it and gave it a sniff. "So that's why you smell like oranges." He whispered, he looked down at Elise who was shuffling around anxiously, trying not to look down, she had her hand out.  
"I need that." She said.   
An idea popped into Sherlock's head, he wanted to do a little experiment.   
"Allow me." He said and squirted some into her loofah.   
Alarm bells were going off in her mind, he was going to wash her. The Sherlock Holmes was going to wash her body with his hands.  
"Um, o-okay. Yeah."  
She turned around and he started with her arms. She could feel his breath on her neck and her anxiousness melted away, it resurfaced into something else when he started on her torso, the rough feeling of the loofah mixed with the soft skin of his hands. She was finding it hard to breathe. It wasn't until his fingers brushed against her breasts that she found her voice.   
"Sherlock?" She gasped, he didn't say anything, when he was done with the washing the loofah was replaced by his hands entirely, touching her wherever he wanted. Elise touched the back of his neck and turned around.  
"What are you doing, Sherlock Holmes?" She whispered.   
"I don't know." He said. He bent down and captured her lips with a kiss.   
She forgot to breathe, her heart was racing a million miles and it felt like an explosion went off inside her head. She went on her tip-toes to help him out, he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. She shivered at the feeling of their bare skin touching. When they broke apart he asked her a question.  
"Can I? Touch you?" His tone was serious in his asking.   
Elise exhaled the breath she was holding and nodded.   
His hand trailed down her ribs, the curve and stopped at her hip.   
"Is this alright?"  
She nodded and he continued, he cupped her very gently, she let out a sharp gasp and pushed herself upwards for better access, his index finger slid across her folds, she bit back a moan. Sherlock watched her very closely, eyes glued on her face as he continued, he cautiously slipped a finger inside her.  
"Oh." She breathed.   
He pulled out slowly and thrust back in, she whimpered and grabbed his shoulders for support.

-  
John picked up on the tension in the room when he came back with the shopping. Elise was sitting on the couch with her sketchbook on her lap, Sherlock was sitting at the dining table, looking at something on his laptop, they would exchange glances but not a word was said between them. John decided to break the silence.   
"Hey, Elise I noticed you were out of Chai, so I grabbed you some."   
"Thank you, John." She said, looking up at Sherlock, the shower still fresh in her mind.   
Some dark part of her mind commanded her to draw him naked, and so she did.   
When John entered the living room she sunk down further on the couch, holding her sketchbook closer to herself as she continued to shade.   
John looked around the room. "Something happen while I was away?"  
"No," they said together.   
John sighed and sat in his chair. 

\-   
John noticed how much Sherlock was sleeping, whenever Elise was over he'd follow her to bed. John didn't like the idea of them sharing a bed, it worried him, he tried not to think about the possible outcomes.   
He would stay up later, listening for anything out of the ordinary, but nothing ever happened, just light snoring and the occasional shift of bedsheets.   
In the morning John had to do a double take, Sherlock just handed Elise a cuppa, he never makes tea.   
They smiled at each other, there was still a little awkwardness but it was pretty much gone.   
A man came to the door that morning too, talking about a missing painting. And so the boys had a case. The case was solved rather quickly with Elise's help.   
After the case, Sherlock offered to take her out to dinner.  
"What like a date?" She said.   
"If that's what you wish to call it, no need to change, your cashmere sweater and jeans should do just fine." 

They took a cab to this little Italian place. Sherlock opens the door for her, she smiles and steps inside. The waiter near the door appears to know Sherlock and seats them both almost immediately.   
"Thank you, Billy," Sherlock says.   
"Sherlock!" A man greets rather loudly. They shake hands. "Anything you want on the menu, free for you and your date."   
He lays a couple menus on the table.   
"Your a very lucky woman Signora, this man got me off a murder charge."  
"This is Angelo."   
"Hi." She said shyly.   
"Four years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking."  
"He cleared my name."   
"I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?"   
"Nothing." He looks at Elise. "But for this man, I'd have gone to prison."   
"You did go to prison."  
"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic." He walked away, Elise opened her menu and hid behind it while she looked.   
Billy the waiter came by asking if they wanted to start with some drinks, Sherlock said no bur Elise ordered a glass of white wine.   
As soon as Billy left Angelo came back with the candle.   
Sherlock ordered first, Elise took a little bit longer but she settled on the mushroom ravioli. 

 

"So," she said putting down her second glass of wine next to her half eaten plate.   
"Mr. Famous Detective, any new cases?"  
"If I had a new case do you think I'd be on a date with you."   
Elise's face lit up and she smiled, "you said date."   
"What?"  
"You called this a date." She said again, giggling.   
Sherlock thought about it for a moment, "I guess I did." 

After dinner, they hit the streets of London. "Anywhere else you want to go?"   
She thought about it for a moment. "Perhaps we could get a drink?"  
"As you wish." 

 

They strolled into the flat, giggling and very drunk, it was just after midnight and John was asleep.   
"Ssssshhhhhhh." She said, "mustn't wake John."   
Sherlock laughed and led her to the bedroom.   
He bent down to kiss her, the heel of her boots were giving him a little more ease this time.   
She sighed into the kiss and started tugging at his coat.   
"You're wearing too many clothes." She complained. Eventually, she had him in his shirt and pants before falling on the bed, laughing.   
"What was that about not waking John?" Sherlock slurred.   
"Sorry."  
Sherlock crawled on top of her and started kissing everywhere but her lips.   
"You're so...you're so beautiful...have I ever told you that?" He said.   
"No."  
"Well, I'm telling you now." He said and kissed her neck, sucking and biting, leaving behind a red blotch that was soon to turn purple. "There, your mine now." He said.   
Elise giggled and unbuttoned her jeans, "then take whats yours, you funny man."  
She squeals as he tugs her jeans off, throwing them somewhere about the room.

\-   
Elise woke up in the morning, naked, in an empty bed, her head was pounding and the headache got worse every time she blinked. She doesn't remember much of last night, she remembers dinner and the bar and the sex. She groaned and laid back, covering her face with her hands.   
"Oh god." She whispered. She got up and looked for her clothes, but they were gone, Mrs. Hudson must be washing them. Sighing loudly she picked up Sherlock's shirt off the floor and put it on, it stopped at mid-thigh and she had to roll the sleeves up to use her hands.   
She opened his bedroom door and hoped that John wasn't in the flat, but he was. John and Sherlock were with a female client who was talking about her missing husband. John noticed the state of his sister right away, dressed in nothing but Sherlock's shirt, hair a mess and hickeys littered her neck as she went to make tea.   
John bit his tongue and tried to keep a neutral face as he turned back to their client, "as you were saying." 

When the client left, John pushed Sherlock up against the wall.   
"You..." he started in a dangerous tone. "Slept with my sister."   
"John..." he cut her off.   
"No John, you will not cut me off." She said, keeping her ground. "Let go of Sherlock."  
"But-"  
"Now, John."  
With a growl he let Sherlock go and Elise dragged him into the kitchen, shutting the glass sliders.   
"You slept with him?!"  
"Oh give it a rest John! I'm a grown woman! I'm not some child you need to look after!"   
"But you slept with Sherlock!"  
"And so what if I did? We went out last night, we had fun. And I like him, John." She said softly. John's eyes softened.   
"You really like him."  
"Yeah, he's not a heartless bastard like everyone says." She thought about what she said, "okay scratch that, he's an arse but he is capable of caring for those closest to him, which happen to be me, you and Mrs. Hudson...and Mycroft if you count him too."   
John smiled.   
"So please, let's try not to kill him." She said.   
John sighed, "alright, alright, but one slip up and he's a dead man."   
Elise clapped her hands and squealed and gave John a hug.   
"I suppose you should get back out there, got a case."   
John nodded and opened the doors.


	16. Do You Want Me To Move In?

John was out doing the shopping that morning, Elise took a shower while Sherlock was researching something.   
She sat down in John's chair in Sherlock's robe and picked up her phone, paying no mind to the mannequin behind her.   
Sherlock's phone trills a text alert. He doesn't get up, Elise sighs and walks over to his cell phone and checks the message, her face fills with shock as she turns around and walks into the kitchen.  
"Here." She said, holding the phone out to him.   
"Not now, I'm busy."  
"Sherlock."   
"Not now."  
Elise's breath shudders, "he's back."   
Sherlock lifts his head and takes the phone, his eyes widen and he sinks back in his chair and gazes into space.   
John walks through the door with the shopping, he feels the unease in the room.   
"What is it? What happened?"   
Elise sighs and crosses her arms. "You're up." She said and walked into Sherlock's bedroom.   
"What does she mean?" John asks Sherlock, confused. 

 

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" John asks.   
"No, I'm fine, I'd prefer not to see his face ever again," Elise says as she straightens Sherlock's jacket. "You should really wear a tie." She said.   
"No I told you, I hate ties."  
"Might as well." She says in a flirting tone, "you look better without them."  
Sherlock smiles at her, John looks at them through the mirror and shifts uncomfortable, he wasn't used to this new vibe in the room when they were together, the intimacy made him uncomfortable, though he wasn't sure if they were officially together yet or not, it was still fairly new.   
"Are you going to kiss me or not?" She whispers.   
"And what if I don't?"  
Elise pouts, "well, I mean that's okay, you don't have to, I was just-" he cuts her off with a kiss. John grimaces, it went on a lot longer than he would like.   
"Okay, that's enough." John says, "we need to go now."   
Sherlock nods and pecks her one more time, making her squeal in surprise.   
"I'll see you later."  
"Okay." She whispers.   
When the door shuts she spins around and walks into the kitchen, she was in the mood for pie, it was only to distract herself, a distraction so she wouldn't think of Moriarty or remember the night he kidnapped her and turned her into a human-bomb. 

                                          -  
Elise was finishing up in the bathroom when she heard the door open.   
"Bank of England, Tower of London, Pentonville. Three of the most secure places in the country and six weeks ago Moriarty breaks in, no-one knows how or why."   
He sits down in his armchair while Sherlock begins to pace. Elise walks into the living room, wiping her hands on a hand-towel.   
"All we know is..."  
"...he ended up in custody."   
He stops and turns to John. John takes a breath.  
"Don't do that."   
"Do what?"   
"The look."   
"Look?"   
"You're doing the look again."   
"Well, I can't see it, can I?"   
John points to the mirror above the fireplace as if Sherlock's an idiot for not realizing it's there. Sherlock turns his head and looks at his reflection.  
"It's my face."   
"Yes, and it's doing a thing. You're doing a 'we both know what's really going on here' face." "Well, we do."   
"No. I don't, which is why I find The Face so annoying."   
"If Moriarty wanted the Jewels, he'd have them. If he wanted those prisoners free, they'd be out on the streets. The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there."   
He starts to pace again.  
"Somehow this is part of his scheme."  
Elise clears her throat to make herself known to the boys.   
"I thought you would've gone home by now," John said.   
"Yes, do you even still live there or did you just move in?" Sherlock said.   
"I wanted to stick around and yes Sherlock, I still live there, do you want me to move in?" She said, meeting his sass.   
"I'll think about it." He said.   
John, having enough of the flirting, smacks his hands down on the armrests. "Well, I'm starving, I might have something to eat."  
"Oh, I made blueberry pie when you boys were away, I needed a distraction."  
John's face lit up, "that sounds great."   
Elise leads him into the kitchen and cuts him a piece.   
"Sherlock? Would you like some?"  
"No, not right now thank you." He said quickly and sat down to use his laptop. 

 

In the morning John went back for another hearing, Sherlock stayed home, Elise was sitting in John's chair, watching some talk show when Sherlock got a phone call when he hung up the phone he turned to his unofficial girlfriend. Moriarty was found not guilty, he knew that he'd be coming by, he wanted to spare her the thought of seeing his face again.   
"Elise, I think we're out of milk."   
She hummed, "we are, I used the last bit to make breakfast this morning." She stood up and stretched, "would you like me to fetch some?" She smiled at her from his spot on the couch. "Please, and take your time, Elise dear, there's no rush."   
She nodded and grabbed her bag. "I'll walk then." She smiled at Sherlock and left the flat. 

 

Elise walked through the door sometime later with milk and a few other things she saw that she liked.   
"Sherlock." She called, walking up the stairs, Sherlock is sitting in his chair, plucking the strings on his violin, there's a tea set near him.   
"Were you expecting company?"  
"I was but then he left, nothing to worry your little head over."   
"It was him, wasn't it? Moriarty."   
Sherlock doesn't say anything, he just nods. Elise lets out a shaky laugh and starts to put the shopping away.   
Sherlock gets up and walks over to her, he ran a hand down her arm, startling her.  
"I'm sorry." He whispered.  
"It's okay." She said. "I'm fine, I'm totally fine. Is that why you sent me out?"  
He nodded. "I didn't want you..." his voice trailed off.  
"Is this your way of saying you care."  
"You know I...care." He said the c-word like it was painful. Elise shook her head and smiled.  
"I know, I know you do. And I don't exactly expect you to pour your heart and soul out all the time, just little things are enough."   
"Would asking you to move in be a little thing or a big thing."  
She looked at him, shocked. "Are you serious?"  
"Well I mean, you practically live here already, spending the nights with me, in my bed." He purred, he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.   
"My, my, Sherlock what's gotten into you?" She asked.  
"You did, you, you, you, you're like a virus." He said. "No, scratch that, you're like a drug."   
Elise, thankful for once of her heeled boots, wrapped her arms around his neck. "And are you, addicted to me, Mr. Holmes?"  
"Just about." He said and lifted her onto the counter, attacking her lips with a kiss. He was so close to taking off her jumper when someone cleared his throat.   
"Please, not here."    
Elise tugged her jumper down to cover her body and Sherlock helped her off the counter.   
"Sorry." She said and continued to put the shopping away.   
"I asked her to move in," Sherlock said.  
John turned to him. "What?"   
"Well I mean she already kind of lives here."   
"And what did she say?"  
"I didn't get her answer, we got sidetracked."  
"Uh-huh...and where would she sleep?"  
Sherlock looked at John like that was an odd question to ask.   
"In my bed, with me, why?"  
"Nothing." John sighed. "Nothing at all."


	17. I'll See You At Home.

She eventually said yes to moving in, only grabbing the essentials; her art supplies, vinyl records, and the record player. Sherlock had the table and chair by the couch moved so she could place her easel and paints down, her bar cart with her records would be kept in the bedroom, they had to purchase a second wardrobe for her clothes and shoes. They kept their violins together and she put her cello in the bedroom because they couldn't find a place for it in the living room.   
Life was charming for the next two months, domestic bliss, Mycroft would say. Sherlock and Elise became an official item, John had gotten himself a pair of earplugs in case things got to...he didn't even want to think about that, no brother wants to think about that.   
John was out and about doing the shopping and Elise had a rather nasty dream the night before and went to find Sherlock, wearing nothing but an oversized pullover and yoga shorts, Sherlock was laying on the couch, thinking, she walked up to the edge of the couch and flopped down onto Sherlock, who groaned on impact. Elise moved so she was straddling him, nuzzling her face into his chest.  
"Bad dream?"  
She nodded.  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
She shook her head.  
"Okay."   
She got off him eventually to make something to eat. Lestrade and a woman Elise has never met before knock on the open doorway. They explained to Sherlock about the kidnapping. Lestrade had to do a double take when he saw Elise walk out of the kitchen. "What are you doing here?"  
"I live here."  
Lestrade just stared at her, mouth open.   
"I'd advise you to stop staring at my girlfriend, Lestrade," Sherlock said.   
"Girl-girlfriend?" He turned back to Elise, "girlfriend?"   
She nodded.   
"She's your girlfriend?" Lestrade said again.   
"Naturally." He said.  
"Look at you freak, settling into domestic life," Donovan said, Sherlock appeared not to be bothered by what she said but it bothered Elise greatly, storming up to the woman she raised her hand up and slapped her on the face with such ferocity, it made Sherlock and Lestrade look at her with frightened facial expressions. Donovan gasped and held her cheek, looking for something to keep her balance. She bent down to look her in the face.   
"Call him a freak again and believe me, I will do a lot more than give you a slap in the face, and that's not a threat, its a promise." She whispered in such a way that would make even the devil afraid.   
She stood up tall and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door.   
"Why is it always the short ones that are terrifying?" Lestrade said, looking at the door. 

\-   
Elise and Molly decided to go out for lunch, but they were stopped by Elise's boyfriend and her brother.   
"Elise!"  
"Hey. We're just going out."  
Sherlock grabbed her hand and started to pull her back the way she came. "No, you're not." John and Molly follow them.   
"Sherlock." She says again.   
"You're having lunch with me, both of you."   
Reaching into his coat pockets, he dramatically produces a bag of Quavers crisps from each pocket.  
"Is this for the case?"   
"I need Molly's help. One of her old boyfriends, we're trying to track him down. He's been a bit naughty!   
Reaching the fire doors at the other end of the corridor, he turns and smiles back at Molly, who has stopped dead a few paces back. John also stops and stares at him.   
"It's Moriarty?"   
"Course it's Moriarty."   
At the sound of his name, Elise's face goes pale and she stops walking,   
"Er, Jim actually wasn't even my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it."   
"Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England and organized a prison break at Pentonville. For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly." Sherlock's hand slips out of Elise's, Sherlock turns around, her eyes are widened with horror and her breathing starts to escalate. Sherlock put his hands on her face and stroked her cheeks with her thumbs. Her little hands came to rest on his arms. "Relax, you're okay. It's just his name, he can't get to you, not with me around." He whispers gently. Elise nods frantically. He pulls her into a hug. "Your okay, just breathe, focus on my breathing." She tries to match his breathing pattern. When she's calmed down enough she lets go of Sherlock and wipes her eyes.   
"I'm okay." She said.   
"Good."   
She takes his hand again. 

Inside, Molly puts on her lab coat and places a stack of books and files onto the table. Elise is sitting on a stool, eating the crisps.   
"Oil, John," Sherlock says, he opens the plastic Petri dish and takes out one of the samples with tweezers. "The oil in the kidnapper's footprint, it'll lead us to Moriarty." He drops the sample into a test tube which has some liquid in the bottom. The fluid begins to fizz. He suctions up some of the liquid and drops it onto a slide. "All the chemical traces on his shoe have been preserved. The sole of the shoe is like a passport. If we're lucky we can see everything that he's been up to."   
He looks at the slide under the microscope. Time passes and we see brief extracts of the work which he and Molly are doing. She puts on latex gloves.   
"I need that analysis."   
Molly squeezes some liquid into a glass dish and applies some Litmus paper to it. The paper turns blue.  
"Alkaline."   
"Thank you, John," Sherlock says as a reflex move.   
"That was Molly, love." Elise corrects him.   
"Yes."   
Molly turns away unhappily. Sherlock has found the first component in the mixture of items and makes a note of it. 

Later, he has another sample on a slide and is looking at it in the microscope. He quietly murmurs to himself. "I...owe...you." He turns his head and looks at a nearby computer screen. "Glycerol molecule."   
He sighs heavily as he struggles to identify the item.   
"What are you?"   
He looks into the microscope again as Molly stands beside him typing onto a laptop.  
"What did you mean, 'I owe you'?"  
John walks across the lab on the other side of the bench. Sherlock raises his eyes from the microscope and watches him crossing the room.  
"You said, 'I owe you.' You were muttering it while you were working."   
"Nothing. Mental note."   
Molly looks at him.  
"You're a bit like my dad. He's dead."   
She closes her eyes, embarrassed. "No, sorry."   
"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation. It's really not your area."   
Molly cringes.   
"Don't be rude, Sherlock," Elise says, he looks up at her. "Sorry, love." He says.   
Molly looks at the exchange, they were more than just friends, she could tell, and it made her heartache. She took a breath and continued. "When he was..dying, he was always cheerful; he was lovely, except when he thought no one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad."   
Elise gets up to go talk to John about something.   
"Molly..." Sherlock says sternly.   
"You look sad..." she glances towards Elise. "When you think she can't see you."   
Sherlock's eyes lift from the microscope and drift towards Elise who is having a laugh with John about something a distance away, unaware. Sherlock turns his head and looks at Molly.  
"Are you okay?"   
He opens his mouth but she interrupts before he can speak. "And don't just say you are because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see you."   
She's interrupted by the intercom. "Doctor Watson to the emergency department. Doctor Watson to the emergency department."   
She sighed, "that's me." She rushes over to give Sherlock a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you at home."   
"Okay."   
She leaves the lab and heads upstairs. 

\-   
She doesn't get home until late, Sherlock and John aren't home either. Sighing she makes a cuppa, turns John's chair towards the telly and curls up. Elise hears the door open and turns around. "Sherlock?"   
He walks rapidly into the living room, pulling off his scarf and then his coat as he goes across to the laptop on the dining table.  
"Four assassins living right on our doorstep. They didn't come here to kill me; they have to keep me alive." He says. Elise gets up from John's chair and walks over to Sherlock. He wraps his arm around her waist and keeps talking. "I've got something that all of them want, but if one of them approaches me..."   
"...the others kill them before they can get it." John continues.   
Sherlock grunts in agreement and types rapidly on the laptop, navigating away from the website for St Aldate's School and calling up a list of local Wi-Fi networks. There are five of them and he checks their signal strength and the names of the networks, each of which is in a foreign language.  
"All of the attention is focussed on me. There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now."   
"Is anyone going to fill me in?" Elise asks. The boys stay quiet. She sighs, "okay fine, I'm going to bed." She kisses Sherlock on the cheek and heads for the bedroom.   
Peeling off her scrubs she gets into something more comfortable and crawls into bed. 

Sometime in the night Sherlock walks into the bedroom, Elise is still fast asleep, wearing a cotton sleep shirt. Sherlock sits down on the mattress and trails his finger up her arm, she stirs but doesn't wake.   
"Elise." He whispers shaking her gently. She wakes up and blinks. "Sherlock?" She whispers, voice groggy, she lets her eyes adjust and turns the lamp on. Sherlock is sitting there, his eyes hold a sadness as he looks at her.   
"Sherlock? What is it? Whats wrong?" She asks and gets on her knees on the bed, putting her hand on his shoulder.   
"Elise, I think I'm going to die."


	18. I Can Play The Part.

She listens to his entire plan, she understands it, but she doesn't like it.   
"How long will you be gone?" She asks, sniffling. Sherlock reaches up to wipe a tear away. "I don't know. I will be back, it's not forever."   
Elise swallows and looks at Sherlock, her eyes are sad but relieved, sad because he has to go but relieved that the death he has planned is fake, that he has Mycroft on it.   
"Are you going to tell John?" She asked.  
"No, he has to believe that its real."  
Elise nods. "So I get to play the part of the grieving, heartbroken girlfriend." She says trying to have a laugh.   
Sherlock smiles, "yes, exactly. Can you do it?"  
"I'm an artist, Sherlock. I took drama in secondary school, I can be a pretty convincing actress if need be. I can play the part."  
"That's my girl." He says. Her heart flutters, he's never called her 'my girl' before.   
"I do have one request, Mr. Holmes." She says.   
He nods to let her know he was listening.   
"Sleep with me?" She asks with a shrug. Sherlock knew she wasn't talking about sleeping, he knew what she wanted and he would oblige without a second thought.   
He captured her lips with a kiss and laid her down, hovering above her so he wouldn't crush her. Elise started to make quick work on the buttons of his shirt, but he grabbed her hands. "There's no rush." He whispered.   
His clothing was removed slowly, he wanted to take his time, wanted to savour every last second with her he had.   
He pulled her on top without breaking the kiss.   
His hands traveled up her thighs, making her shiver, his hands traveled up, and gripped her hips, she moved them in reflex, grinding over his cock. Sherlock gasped at her actions, he was a silent lover most of the time, most of the time and Elise knew this, she would toy with him sometimes like it was a game, except this time it wasn't, it was far from, this was a goodbye, not forever of course but Sherlock had no idea how long he'd be gone.   
He slipped the shirt off her body and tossed it somewhere. His hands wandered all over her body, he wanted to memorize it, memorize her, as a way of knowing he had a reason to come back. He sat up with her, lips trailing from her mouth to her neck and chest, peppering kisses all over her skin, making her tremble. He pushed her down gently on the bed, kissing down her navel to the waistband of her underwear, taking it off with his teeth. She watched him, shaking with anticipation of what was to come. Sherlock kissed the inside of her thighs and stopped momentarily at the spot where she needed him most. Sherlock had to take it easy, this was not the time to be dominant, this was to make her feel good, he could care less about his own needs right now. Actually, before he met her, he didn't know if he ever had these needs, these carnal desires.   
He slid his tongue between her folds, she moaned and grasped at the duvet cover, he watched her while he pleasured her, her face was turned away, eyes screwed shut, hands clinging to the duvet and his hair desperately, back arching off the bed, breathing erratic as she choked out moans.   
"Sher-" her body convulsed, "...Oh." Her body fell back against the bed, "fuck!" She whined. Sherlock smiled to himself, his jaw ached but that was least important, the most important thing was making her cum, and he was so close. Sherlock slipped a finger inside while he lapped and sucked, her moans were high pitched and desperate, she started bucking her hips against his face.  
"Fuck, Sherlock! I'm gonna...I-"  
"Cum for me." He ordered, she didn't have to be told twice. She let go, moaning loudly, her hips jerked as she rode out her high, she came down from it slowly.   
Sherlock slid up her body and captured her in a kiss, she could taste herself on his lips.   
"It's your turn, Mr. Holmes." She said against his lips.   
"No, this is not about me." He said, "this is about you." He kissed her neck, massaging her breasts. She gasps softly and arches her back, she wants to be closer, she doesn't feel close enough to him.   
"Please." She whimpers.  
"Tell me what you want."  
"I want you to fuck me." She whispers.   
"Such a naughty word for such a sweet girl." He whispered and aligned with her entrance, thrusting in.   
Elise gasped and moaned under him. He kept a slow and steady pace and it didn't falter no matter how she begged, it soon became clear to her what he was doing. Though he couldn't say it with words, his body could, for at the moment he wasn't ready nor able to say those three words in a verbal form, but she could feel it in every thrust of his hips. He twitched in her, her walls contracted around him in response, she could feel herself getting close again, she clung to him, chanting his name like a prayer.  
"That's it darling," he gruffed, kissing her neck. "Come on."  
He came right after her, spilling out onto the sheets. He laid beside her while they catch their breaths.   
Sherlock pulls her close to him and she puts her head on his shoulder while he puts a sheet over their naked bodies.   
Elise smiled contently, "I love you." She whispered.   
"I know." He said, kissing the top of her head as she drifted off to sleep.   
When he was sure she was deep in sleep he slipped out from under her and dressed himself. Stopping to write her a note and kiss her a few times; on her back, her shoulders and lips, he took one good look around the flat and left. 

\-   
When she woke up in the morning she looked over at the window, beside her was a folded piece of paper with her name on it, she knew what that meant. She let out a sob and curled up in a ball, crying for what felt like hours. Eventually she pushed herself up off the bed, she showered and dressed before walking into the kitchen for something to eat.

Her phone rang and she picked it up off the table, her brothers name flashed on the screen, 'show time' she thought. She took a deep breath and answered the phone.   
"Hello?"   
She could hear John crying on the other end.   
"John? What's wrong?"  
"It-its Sherlock....he-he-he....he jumped off the roof, Elise...he's gone..." he said in total anguish. Elise didn't say a word, dramatically she slid down the wall, ignoring John's voice on the phone as she cried, until he hung up that is, when he did hang up, she wiped away the tears and continued on with her day. She didn't want to do this to John but she had too, all part of the plan, he'd understand one day, hopefully.   
She went to the funeral as instructed, for John, she wore a simple black dress and tied her hair back with a black ribbon while she stood arm in arm with her brother as they lowered the empty casket into the ground. On the way to Elise's car Mrs. Hudson asked if she was going to move out, like John was. Elise shook her head, "no, he'd um, he'd want me to stay...to look after the place and you. He cared about you, Mrs. Hudson, about all of us."   
Shortly after the funeral she put in her two week notice, her boss was understanding. When she was free from that place she applied to The Royal Opera House as part of the orchestra. She chose the violin, she could have easily chosen her cello but she never really connected with it like her violin.   
The selection would be tough, there would be others wanting the same spot, but she just had to be better.   
Before she left she opened her jewelry box and pulled her mothers necklace from it. She kissed the cold metal and put it around her neck. 

"And what piece will you be preforming for us?" The director asked, originally she had chosen Sonata II in G Minor by G.F. Händel but she changed her mind last minute. She played one of her own pieces, she closed her eyes and imagined that she was playing for Sherlock, just him and no one else, as she danced with her bow on the stage.   
When she got the job she told John first, who was extremely happy for his sister, they even went out to dinner for the first time in a month. After the incident. 

After a week she had a meeting with Mycroft to check in.   
"And how are you fairing, Elise?"  
"I miss him a lot, you know but um, I'm doing alright, its just me in the flat now and Mrs. Hudson, she still can't come in without wanting to cry."   
Mycroft smiled, it was a reflex, no emotion.   
"And how is your brother?"  
Elise put down her tea cup.   
"He's...doing as well as you would expect, though he is seeing his therapist again, which I feel is a good thing."  

                                          -   
Sleeping in the bed by herself was lonely so, she came up with a solution, she got in the car and drove to the nearest shelter. 

 

"Can I help you with something?" Someone asked, Elise jumped a little.  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."  
"That's alright, I'm looking for a dog." She said.   
"Do you know what type of dog your looking for?"   
She turned to the worker. "I'm not sure, I've always wanted a greyhound as a child, but my mother was allergic."   
"Would you like to go inside."   
"Please."  
The worker opened the door and let her in, there were many dogs in the area, off all breeds.   
She walked down the hall, occasionally stopping to say hi to a dog or two.   
About halfway down the hall, the Italian Greyhound looked right at her, he had a blue coat and bright eyes, on his chart he didn't have a name, but he was still just a pup.   
"Can I see that one?" She asked, nodding the worker opened the latch, she picked up the dog and gave him to Elise.   
"Hello." She greeted, in response he licked her face. Elise laughed and ran her hand down her back.   
"Do you want to take him to the play room? See how you bond?"  
"Yeah." She said and carried the pup to the room and put her down. 

She sat down and played with the dog asking questions, about temperament, what is he like, will he be okay with being left alone. That type of stuff.   
"He's a very quiet dog, doesn't really bark, he loves people, loves interacting with other dogs, he's wonderful, he really is."   
She did a few tests, she cradled him, he looked away momentarily but became comfortable, she put him down and walked away, encouraging him to walk towards her, among others. 

Elise went home with the greyhound, and she called him Ollie, she kept all his things in the back of her car while she brought Ollie inside.   
"Mrs. Hudson!" She called.   
"Oh! I'm in the kitchen, dear."   
Elise pushed the door open and found her to be baking something. "I have something to show you."  
"What is it?" She turned around and saw the puppy.   
"Oh! Look at him. You know at first I didn't know if you were serious about the dog thing, but look at him, what's his name?"  
"Mrs. Hudson meet Ollie, Ollie meet Mrs. Hudson."   
She let him sniff her hand, after a moment he started to lick her.   
"Oh, isn't he precious." She cooed.   
"Very." she   
"Why exactly did you get a dog?"   
"I just thought he'd liven the place up a little, its been grim since Sherlock um...since he well...you know..."   
"I understand."   
The girls smiled at each other and Mrs. Hudson offered a cuppa.   
"Please." Elise said and sat down with Ollie who was still taking in his surroundings.


	19. Hello again, Mr. Holmes.

Two years, its been two years. And even alone Elise was thriving, as well as she could without him, she had a job she loved, a dog to keep her company and a friend in Mrs. Hudson. Even her brother found someone too, a wonderful woman named Mary, he also had that awful moustache that Elise keeps trying to get him to shave.   
"You look like our dad, and not in a good way." She said.   
At this current moment, she was walking back home from work, she could have taken the car but she chose to walk. She held her violin case in her hand, black stilettos clacking against the pavement. She couldn't wait to change out of this awful dress into jeans but they had a performance coming up so formal wear was a must.   
Her phone rang in her pocket, hitting accept she put it to her ear.  
"Mary, hi." She said, a smile growing on her face.   
"Oh nothing, I'm just turning down Baker Street right now." She said and listened to Mary on the other end of the phone. "No I will not tell you what John has planned, that would be a surprise." She said, opening the front door. "Anyway I should go, it's about Ollie's dinner time and he's a grumpy dog when his foods empty. Okay, I'll see you." She hung up and opened the door, Ollie jumped off the couch to greet his owner.   
"Hi, Ollie!" She said excitedly, Ollie barked and spun around on his hind legs. Elise put her violin down and patted her chest with her hands and said "up!" Ollie jumped up and she caught him.   
"Did you miss me?"   
He licked her face.  
"I'll take that as a yes."   
She kissed Ollie's face and put him down to fill up his food bowl. Leaning against the wall she took her heels off and walked into the bedroom, taking the pins from her hair, letting it fall on her shoulders. She took off her deep yellow peacoat and hung it up on the door, unzipping her dress she took it off and put on her everyday wear, a jumper, and jeans. She walked back out into the living room and sat at her easel, grabbing the remote she turned the radio on and relaxed. 

In the morning she got a phone call, smiling into the receiver she hung up and heard the car pull up out front. Grabbing her coat she called to Mrs. Hudson to watch Ollie and left the flat.   
"Miss Watson," Plummer said, opening the door.   
"Thank you."   
She was giddy the entire ride, giddy and nervous.   
At Mycroft's office Sherlock just put down the file Mycroft had given him on John, there was a knock.   
"Come in."   
The door opened and Elise walked inside, grinning from ear to ear.   
"Hello again, Mr. Holmes."   
Sherlock's smile is tender, his face is soft and he looks at Elise like she's the most beautiful person he's ever seen, and to Sherlock she was.   
"Oh, how I've missed you." He whispered. He picks her up and spins her about the room making her giggle like a little girl, he stops to kiss her, still holding her.   
Mycroft cleared his throat. "Yes, the reunion is quite touching, now can we get back to important matters."   
Sherlock put Elise down and he cleared his throat.   
"I think I'll surprise John. He'll be delighted!" Sherlock says, straightening his jacket.   
Mycroft smiled cynically. "You think so?"   
"Hmm. I'll pop into Baker Street. Who knows, jump out of a cake."   
Elise put a hand on Sherlock's arm. "Sherlock, John doesn't live there anymore."  
Sherlock looks at her surprised.   
"Why would he? It's been two years. He's got on with his life." Mycroft says.   
"What life? I've been away."   
Mycroft rolls his eyes.   
"Where's he going to be tonight?"   
"How would I know?"  
"You always know."   
"He's got a date." Elise said, smiling excitedly, "with a woman named Mary who I love to death, she's really sweet and very witty, and I think you'll like her too, Sher."  
Sherlock turns to his girlfriend. "And what about you?"  
"I still live on Baker Street."   
Sherlock smiles and Mycroft opens his mouth, "yes, and with a dog, she calls Ollie."  
"Shut up, Mycroft." Elise snaps at him, Mycroft frowns and holds his head up, making a sound of disproval.   
Sherlock furrows his eyebrows.  
"A dog?"  
"Yes, a dog. His names Ollie, he's an Italian Greyhound and he's really friendly, and I think you'll like him."   
"Hm, yes, and how's life as a doctor, Elise?"   
Elise turns to Mycroft with an expression that basically says 'I'll kill you.'   
"What does he mean?" Sherlock asked.  
"I'm not a doctor anymore." She said.  
"What? Why not?"  
"Because instead, I'm a first violinist at the Royal Opera House."  
"Are you serious? Elise that's fantastic." He pulls her into a hug.   
"Yes, it's all very wonderful," Mycroft says, a look of disgust on his face by how much affection is going on in his office.   
"Do you think John will be happy to see me?"  
Sherlock asks.  
"Uhhh...." Elise says, trying to think of what to say, "no?" She said unsure of her answer.   
"I think maybe I'll just drop by." He said, ignoring her.   
"You know, it is just possible that you won't be welcome," Mycroft says.   
"No, it isn't. Now, where is it?"   
"Where's what?"   
"You know what."   
Anthea also knows, because she immediately appears in the open doorway holding Sherlock's Belstaff coat. Sherlock smiles with delight and slides his arms into the sleeves as Anthea lifts it into position. She has even already popped the collar for him.  
"Welcome back, Mr. Holmes."   
He pulled the collar tips into a better position. "Thank you."   
He turns to face his brother. "...blud." 

Elise went home afterward, saying she'll meet up with him later. He agrees and he'll text her where he is.  
At home, she's greeted by Ollie and dresses appropriately for work. 

When she left the Opera House she got a text from Sherlock, telling her that he's at the Landmark Hotel and there's a possibility they'll be kicked out and located at the café down the road.   
She put the phone back in her pocket and hailed a cab. 

 

Elise looked inside the café, they were sitting at a table, she could hear them talking.  
"I've got all night," John said.   
Sherlock cleared his throat. "Actually, um, that was mostly Mycroft's idea."   
"Oh, so it's your brother's plan?"   
Oh, he would have needed a confidant..." Mary said pointing at Sherlock.   
"Mm-hm."   
"Sorry." She said to John. She refolds her arms and looks down. John turns back to Sherlock.  
"But he was the only one? The only one who knew?"   
Elise took that as her cue and opened the door. Sherlock nodded in her direction, John turned around, "oh...you've got to be kidding me..." he whispered. Elise reached their table and sat down.  
"You knew? You were in on it too?" John says.   
Elise shrugs apologetically. "Yeah, I knew."  
"Why...did you not...tell me?" John demanded, raising his voice, slamming his hands down on the table.   
"That wasn't part of the plan, John."   
"Who else knew?"  
"Molly." She said.   
"Molly?"   
"Molly Hooper, and some of my homeless network, and that's all."   
"Okay." He sits up a little and glances around at Mary, who gives him a sympathetic smile. He turns to Sherlock again. "Okay. So just your brother, your girlfriend who's also my sister, my lying, deceitful sister, Molly Hooper, and a hundred tramps.  
Sherlock chuckles. "No! Twenty-five at most."   
John hurls himself across the table and attempts to strangle Sherlock. 

 

They were kicked out of the café and relocated to a kebab shop. John and Mary stand leaning with their backs against the counter. John apparently managed more than just an attempted strangulation, because Sherlock has taken his coat off and Elise is stepping up on her tip-toes to hold a napkin to a cut on his lower lip. Sherlock looks at John as he raises his head, avoiding Sherlock's gaze.  
Seriously, it's not a joke? He gestures to his own top lip. You're-you're really keeping this?"  
John clears his throat and meets Sherlock's eyes.  
"Yeah."   
"You're sure?"  
"Mary likes it."   
"Mmmmm, no she doesn't." Elise and Sherlock say together.   
"She does."  
"She doesn't." They said.   
John glances briefly round at Mary, then does a double-take. She makes incoherent apologetic noises.  
"Oh!" He tries to cover his moustache with his hand. "Brilliant."   
"I'm sorry. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know how to tell you." Mary says.   
"No, no, this is charming!"   
He points angrily at Sherlock, clearly referring to his talent of instant deduction.  
"I've really missed this!"   
He looks down, then takes an aggressive step towards Sherlock and gets into his face.  
"One Word, Sherlock. That is all I would have needed. One word to let me know that you were alive." He steps back, breathing heavily.  
"I've nearly been in contact so many times, but..." Sherlock says quietly.   
John laughs disbelievingly.  
"...I worried that you know, you might say something indiscreet."   
"What?"  
"Well, you know, let the cat out of the bag."   
"Oh, so this is my fault?!" John steps forward.   
Mary laughs with disbelief.  
"Oh, God!"   
"Why am I the only one who thinks that this is wrong – the only one reacting like a human being?!"  
"John, calm down," Elise says, looking around the restaurant.   
"Over-reacting," Sherlock says.   
"'Over-reacting'?!" John says furiously.   
"John!"   
He continues to shout. "'Over-reacting.' So you fake your own death..."  
"Shh!"   
"...and you waltz in here large as bloody life..."   
"Shh!" Sherlock says again.   
John starts up again, initially more quietly, but gets louder with every word. "...but I'm not supposed to have a problem with that, no, because Sherlock Holmes thinks it's a perfectly OKAY THING TO DO!"   
"Shut up, John! I don't want everyone knowing I'm still alive!"   
"Oh, so it's still a secret, is it?"   
"Yes! It's still a secret."   
Elise and Mary look at each other, exasperated and turn back to the boys.   
"Promise you won't tell anyone."   
"Swear to God!" He says both angrily and sarcastically.   
Finally, he looks around at the other customers and backs down a little, blowing out a long breath. Sherlock steps closer to him and speaks quietly.  
"London is in danger, John. There's an imminent terrorist attack and I need your help."  
John stares at him in amazement, then turns to throw a quirky 'can you believe this guy?!' look at Mary. He turns back to Sherlock.  
"My help?"   
Sherlock's eyes narrow as he deduces John's genuine reaction to his request, then he smiles.  
"You have missed this. Admit it. The thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through your veins, just the two of us against the rest of the world-"  
John grabs his lapels, rears his head back and then moves in for the kill. 

They were kicked out of the kebab shop and were now standing outside.   
Elise gives Sherlock a new napkin for his nose.   
"Thank you, darling." He looks at John. "I don't understand."  
He pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and holds a paper napkin underneath with the other.  
"I said I'm sorry. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"   
Elise is standing beside him with Mary, while John is a few yards up the road hailing an approaching cab.   
"Gosh. You don't know anything about human nature, do you?" Mary says.   
Sherlock lowers his head and looks at her.  
"Mmm, nature? No. Human?...No."   
He looks at Elise with a smile who's standing there, eyebrows raised and hand on her hip.   
"I'll talk him around." Mary says with a smile.   
Sherlock takes the napkin from under his nose and looks at her curiously.  
"You will?"   
"Oh yeah."   
Sherlock looks at her closely and goes into deduction mode.  
Mary smiles at him, then looks around as John calls to her.  
"Mary."   
She turns to give Sherlock a last smile and gives Elise a hug. "I'll call you later, lovey."  
"Bye." She says, watching Mary walk over to John. They get into the cab and it drives away. "Let's go home now, hey?" She says to Sherlock with a smile, hailing down a cab.   
"Yes, you haven't changed anything have you?" He asks her curiously.   
She walks over to the cab and opens the door. "Not even your sock index."   
He smiles and gets in beside her.   
"You should wear heels more." He says.  
"Absolutely not."


	20. Save Souls Now!

Mrs. Hudson is in the kitchen washing up a pan. The radio is on.  
"...with an anti-terrorism bill this important, the government feels duty-bound to push through the legislation with all due expe..."  
Hearing the main front door being opened, she turns down the volume and goes to her front door and opens it, brandishing the pan in front of her. The front door closes, and two familiar silhouettes appear behind the frosted window of the internal door. Mrs. Hudson stares at it in disbelief, and then Sherlock pushes open the door and looks at her. She screams hysterically.   
"Mrs. Hudson!" Elise says and goes to comfort her. "It's alright-stop screaming-its alright. Sherlock's alive." 

From upstairs Elise could hear Mrs. Hudson screaming at Sherlock from inside her kitchen. Currently, she's sitting on the couch, going over her music with Ollie, sleeping on her lap.   
It took an hour for Sherlock to come upstairs. Ollie wakes up and trots to the end of the couch, barking at the intruder.   
"Ollie!" Elise scolds.   
He gets off the couch and sniffs Sherlock's pants.   
Sherlock bends down and lets the iggy sniff the rest of him, he seems to recognize the smell and calms down, he even nudges Sherlock's hand asking for a pet. He looks up at Elise who's still focused on the sheet music, dressed in sweatpants and a worn yellow jumper, she looks just the same but also different, younger, less tired, no longer underweight which seemed to move her up a bra-size, still short. She puts the music on the coffee table and stretches.   
"So...what shall we do tonight? We could watch telly, play Cluedo, play together or we could, if you'd be so willing..." she crawls to the edge of the couch and grabs Sherlock by his scarf. "...make up for lost time." She whispers.  
"I just got back and you want to have sex."  
"Well, its been two years and a woman has needs, Sherlock." She pouts.   
Sherlock sighs and picks her up off the couch, she squeals and wraps her legs around his waist.   
"You're lucky." He says and carries her off to the bedroom, leaving Ollie outside the door. 

                                        -   
"Why are there stairs by the bed?" Sherlock asks, after their very long catch up.   
"They're for Ollie." She says and kisses his collarbone.   
"You let him sleep on the bed?"  
"Sometimes, when I was feeling really lonely, but he has plenty of doggie beds, one in our room, one in the living room and he's got one in Mrs. Hudson's flat. Though she loves to spoil him like a grandmother would spoil a grandchild."  
Sherlock chuckles. "So we're keeping the dog."  
"Yes, you arse."   
"Just checking." 

                                     -   
The door opens, Sherlock and Mycroft turn their heads towards the sound. Elise walks into the flat, holding a tired Ollie.   
"Hey." She said, out of breath from the stairs. "Mycroft."   
He smiles bitterly at her. She takes Ollie's booties and leash off and sets him on the ground, he scampers off to his water bowl, still wearing his fleece bodysuit.  
"Your dog looks ridiculous," Mycroft said.  
"Shut up." She snaps, making him frown, she takes off her coat and scarf. "Its cold, he needed to stay warm." She said, sitting on the couch, Ollie comes up and joins her.   
"Are you guys playing Operation?"   
"No," Sherlock says.  
"Yes," Mycroft says over him.   
Elise snorts back laughter.   
"John and I used to play that game as kids." She said, taking the bodysuit off her dog. "He'd always win though. Harry would always say I would lose because I was stupid, but John would snap back with, 'she's only six!' Or something like that." She puts down Ollie and goes over to Sherlock, instinctively he opens his arms and she slips onto his lap.   
Mrs. Hudson, carrying a tray of tea things, walks into the room with her traditional "Ooh-ooh!" She happily puts the tray on the dining table. "I can't believe it. I just can't believe it! Him, sitting in his chair again!"   
She looks at Mycroft.  
"Oh, isn't it wonderful, Mr. Holmes?"   
"I can barely contain myself." He says sarcastically.   
"Oh, he really can, you know."   
"He's secretly pleased to see you underneath all that..." she pulls a sour face.   
"Sorry, which of us?"   
"Both of you."   
She leaves the room. Elise gets up and pours herself some tea.   
"Let's play something different," Sherlock says.   
Mycroft sighs exasperatedly. "Why are we playing games?"   
"Well, London's terror alert has been raised to Critical." He flails his legs over the table in front of him and stands up. "I'm just passing the time. Let's do deductions."   
He walks over to the dining table and picks up a woolen bobble hat which has earflaps and a dangly woolen pom pom hanging from each flap.   
"Client left this while I was out. What d'you reckon?"  
He tosses it to his brother, Ollie jumps up, trying to catch the hat.   
"I'm busy," Mycroft says, catching the hat.   
"Oh, go on. It's been an age."  
Mycroft lifts the hat to his nose and sniffs, then looks across to Sherlock, Ollie try's again, Elise tutts and picks him up.   
"I always win."   
"Which is why you can't resist."   
Mycroft goes off, quick fire. "I find nothing irresistible in the hat of a well-traveled anxious sentimental unfit creature of habit with appalling halitosis..."  
He stops when he notices Sherlock's widening smile.  
"Damn."  
He throws the hat back to Sherlock.  
"Isolated, too, don't you think?"  
"Why would he be isolated?"  
"'He'?"  
"Obviously."  
"Why? Size of the hat?"  
"Don't be silly. Some women have large heads too."   
"Like my sister," Elise mumbles, making Sherlock laugh.   
"No, he's recently had his hair cut. You can see the little hairs adhering to the perspiration stains on the inside."   
Sherlock looks down at the hat, pouting slightly.  
"Some women have short hair, too."  
"Balance of probability."  
"Not that you've ever spoken to a woman with short hair, or, you know, a woman."   
Elise snorts into her teacup.   
"Stains show he's out of condition, and he's sentimental because the hat has been repaired three, four-"  
"Five times." He throws the hat back to his brother. "Very neatly." He goes off quickfire. "The cost of the repairs exceeds the cost of the hat, so he's mawkishly attached to it, but it's more than that. One, perhaps two, patches would indicate sentimentality, but five? Five's excessive behaviour. Obsessive-compulsive."  
"Hardly. Your client left it behind. What sort of an obsessive-compulsive would do that?"  
He throws the hat back to Sherlock, who grabs it with an exasperated grimace.  
"The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he's worn it abroad, in Peru."  
"Peru?"  
"This is a chullo, the classic headgear of the Andes. It's made of alpaca."   
"No," Sherlock says, smirking.   
"No?"  
"Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive if you know what you're looking for. I've written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of different natural fibres."   
Mrs. Hudson came back upstairs. "I'm sure there's a crying need for that." She says, giving Ollie a treat.   
Sherlock pauses for a moment, then turns back to his brother.  
Elise turns to Mrs. Hudson, "can you watch him for me, I need to take a shower."  
"Of course, dear."  
Elise hands Ollie over. "Thanks." And walks off into the bathroom. 

"There's my favourite Watson," Sherlock said when Elise came out of the shower.   
She smiled and hummed, "I thought John was your favourite."   
"Second favourite, you're my first favourite." He said.  
"Aww, let me guess, you need my help on cases?"  
Sherlock smiles, "you know me so well."  
"Only because you let me." She unwraps the towel from around her head and fluffs her hair.   
"Why wouldn't I?"   
She smiles and looks at her watch. "I can't today, I have rehearsals but tomorrow I can." She said, she left to get ready.   
She walked out of the bedroom, pinning her hair up, Molly was standing in the living room.  
"Molly! Hi!" She said, surprised.   
"Oh, hi, Elise."   
"Wow, um, I really can't stay, but I'll call you later." She said and gave Sherlock a quick kiss before grabbing her coat.   
"Bye." She left the flat. 

                                       -   
Elise is walking home from work when a  man comes around the corner and walks along the road, barging past her and bumping roughly into her shoulder. Elise turns to look at him as he continues onwards without speaking.  
"Excuse you."   
The man glances over his shoulder at him but doesn't stop. Behind Elise, another man walks up to him, grabs her left wrist and instantly jabs the needle of a syringe into the right side of her neck. Elise tries to grab at him but the drug is already starting to take effect and her weakening struggles are in vain. The first man comes back and they both hold her as she starts to fall. They carefully lowered her to the ground and she lies there, still vaguely conscious but unable to move. 

Elise slowly starts to regain consciousness, its dark out now. She seems to be surrounded by foliage, the moon is so bright it seems like a flashlight being shone on her. Choking, she tries to move her hands but finds that she can't. She opens her mouth to cry out but no sound will come. She tries to raise her head but eventually sinks back down again. There is a bleeding wound on the right side of her head just at her hairline.

Near Baker Street, John gets a text on his phone.   
(Save souls now!  
Elise or Emma Watson?)  
His phone goes off again, getting another message.   
(Saint or Sinner?   
James or Elise?  
The more is Less?)   
Frowning, he lowers the phone and hurries on.  
Sometime later she is at the door of 221. Mrs. Hudson opens the door to her knock.  
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson."   
Mrs. Hudson lets John in.   
"Sorry, I-I think someone's got, my sister."   
Upstairs in 221B's living room, Sherlock, still in his coat and holding a bag of chips just inside the door, turns at the sound of his voice. Mrs. Hudson follows him.   
"John? What's wrong?" Sherlock asked.   
John takes the phone from his pocket. "Someone sent me this. At first, I thought it was just a Bible thing, you know, spam, but it's not. It appears to be skip-code."   
Sherlock looks at him closely, then turns his attention to his phone as she shows him the first part of the message.   
(Save souls now!  
Elise or Emma Watson?)   
"First word, then every third. Save...Elise...Watson."   
John pulls up the next message.   
(Saint or Sinner?   
James or Elise?  
The more is Less?)  
"Now!" He yells, urgently, panic rising to the surface.   
Dropping his chips to the floor, he races down the stairs with John following.   
"Where are we going?"  
"St James the Less. It's a church. Twenty minutes by car."  
He pelts out into the street.  
"Did you drive here?"   
"No."   
Sherlock is pacing about in the middle of the road, about to have a breakdown. "It's too slow. It's too slow."   
He is oblivious to the approach of a car, which swerves around him, the driver blaring his horn.  
"Sherlock, what are we waiting for?"   
Sherlock turns towards a single oncoming headlight.  
"This."   
He steps directly into the path of the approaching motorcycle and holds up an imperious hand. The driver slams on the brakes and the bike skids to a halt just in time.  
Shortly afterward Sherlock and John are racing through the streets on the bike. In Sherlock's mind, he is calculating how long it will take to get to St James the Less Church. Currently, the journey will take 10 minutes. John's phone sounds a text alert and she checks it. It reads:  
(Getting warmer Mr. Holmes.   
You have about ten minutes.) 

"What does it mean? What are they going to do to her?" John yells.   
"I don't know," Sherlock yells back.   
"What do you mean you don't know?! Your Sherlock Holmes!" He yells.  
"Now is not the time for that!" 

Wherever Elise is, she is struggling to move. The sound of children's voices can be heard some distance away. She grunts as he frantically strains to escape but she can make no louder noise. 

On the motorcycle, John holds her phone over Sherlock's shoulder so that he can see the latest message.   
(8 minutes   
and counting...)   
Sherlock turns his attention back to the road and accelerates, but shortly afterward they approach a roadblock. The road ahead is cordoned off with police tape, and two police officers are explaining the situation to stopped cars.  
Sherlock slams on the brakes and halt the bike. "Damn!"  
He looks to his left and rapidly works out an alternative route which he overlays onto the original route. The original one has an ETA of 8 minutes, the new, more direct route shows an ETA of 5 minutes. Sherlock turns the bike and heads up onto the pavement and into a walkway between two buildings. One of the police officers uselessly chases after him.   
"Oi! Oi! You can't go down there!"   
On the other side of the buildings, the path descends down a long flight of steps but Sherlock heads straight down them and turns onto the road at the bottom, which happens to be The Mall. They race onwards towards Buckingham Palace.

Elsewhere, a fireworks party is starting in a small park in a square near a church. Children wave their sparklers around, and some people are playing small drums. One little girl, Zoe, gazes at the gigantic bonfire which has been piled up in the middle of the park, made up of broken wooden pallets, furniture and anything else which has been scavenged. She looks up at the Guy Fawkes guy which has been perched on the top, completely unaware that Elise is lying on the ground in the middle of the bonfire, out of sight of all the people nearby. The children gather near, perhaps knowing that it is not long until the fire will be lit. Elise opens her mouth and tries again to cry out but all she can manage is a faint moan. She thrashes, trying to push herself up and continuing to moan quietly. And now a man approaches the bonfire carrying a flaming brand of wood. The children watch him delightedly. Elise manages to produce some slightly louder croaks but they cannot be heard above the excited chatter of the children and the drumming. Smiling cheerfully, the man lowers the brand to the foot of the fire. 

On the motorcycle, John receives a new message.   
(Better hurry  
things are  
heating up here...)

They continue onwards but their speed is impeded when they cross a bridge and are blocked by a slow-moving lorry.

At the park, the man with the brand, trying to light the bonfire without any success, looks around and shakes his head.  
"No. It's not gonna work. Bit damp. I'll get something to help it along, yeah?"   
He walks away. Part of the bonfire is smouldering and the smoke drifts across Elise who continues to try and cry out. Her voice is getting a little stronger and she manages to let out a couple of louder but wordless cries. Standing nearby, Zoe frowns at the sound, looking in concern at the guy on top of the fire as the noises continue. 

On the motorcycle, John gets another message.   
(Stay of execution   
you've got two  
more minutes)   
Sherlock swerves the bike off the road and heads straight down into a pedestrian underpass.

At the bonfire, Zoe's father, the one who tried to light the fire, comes back with a small can of petrol. Zoe turns to him.  
"He doesn't like it, Daddy."  
"Eh?"  
"Guy Fawkes, he doesn't like it!"   
"Stay back, Zoe. Back. Now."   
She stares at him as he starts to splash fuel over the wood of the bonfire. Inside, Elise's cries are getting louder.

The motorcycle charges on through the underpass.  
Zoe's dad continues pouring petrol over the fire.  
Sherlock forces the bike up a steep flight of steps and out onto the street again. They are finally driving along beside the fence surrounding the park. John receives one more text.  
(What a shame   
Mr. Holmes  
She was a sweet girl.) 

He holds the phone over Sherlock's shoulder to show him.  
"What does it mean?"  
Smiling, Zoe's dad takes his flaming brand to the fire and tosses it onto the petrol-soaked wood. Sherlock's head whips around as the bonfire begins to blaze and all the onlookers cheer.  
"Oh my God." He says.   
He accelerates around the square towards the only gap in the fence surrounding the park. The onlookers continue to celebrate the ignition of the fire. Elise's voice finally comes to her and she yells as loudly as she can.   
"Help!"  
Zoe screams, and now others can hear Elise's voice and react with horror. Her father runs to hold her back and to comfort her.  
Sherlock races the bike into the park and hurls himself off.  
"Jump off!"   
He quickly steps off as he drops the bike onto its side. The fire is really taking hold now, and Elise wails as the heat increases. Throwing off his helmet, Sherlock runs towards the fire, shoving people out of his way.  
"Move! Move! Move! Move! Move!"  
He reaches the front of the crowd and races on towards the bonfire.  
"Elise!"   
John is running behind him. "Move out of the way! Elise! Move!" He shoves past people.   
Sherlock crouches down, peering through the flames and trying to see where Elise is while throwing some of the wood aside. He and John continue to cry Elise's name and she hears them.  
"Help!"   
Now Sherlock has a location and he plunges his arms into the inferno, throwing pieces of the bonfire aside and creating a path into it. At last, he is able to reach in and he grabs Elise's arms and hauls her out, pulling her across the ground to safety before rolling her over onto her back. Elise lies there, looking extremely dazed as Sherlock looms over her.   
"Elise? Elise!"   
He gently pats her face.  
John is standing nearby, worry etched into his face.   
"Darling, look at me," Sherlock says softly.   
Elise gazes up at them blankly and their faces fade out for a moment. She blinks, but everything is still blurry.


	21. Meet The Parents

Elise walks out of the bedroom, There are healing cuts and gashes on the side of her head where it was scratched by the foliage while she was thrashing about under the bonfire, she walked into the kitchen wearing one of Sherlock's shirts, nothing else.  
"Sweetheart do we have any milk?" She asks, he glances over at his parents, his mother had a look of pure joy on her face from what she just heard.   
He slowly turned back towards the kitchen. "Yes, dear. Mrs. Hudson picked some up earlier."   
Elise sighs, "she's not our housekeeper, you can't expect her too..." she walks out into the living room, looking at the older couple sitting on the couch.   
"Clients?" She asks.  
Sherlock looks her up and down and smiles.   
"Parents." He said.  
"O-oh..." she said, slightly horrified and embarrassed because of what she was wearing, just a shirt, no pants or underwear either.   
"I should um...I should probably go change..." she said in a small voice and ran towards the bedroom, shutting the door, waking Ollie.   
"So much for first impressions, you ditz." She whispers. She threw on underwear and a bra, she put the shirt back on and tossed on some leggings before picking up Ollie and reentering the living room.   
"Hi," she says, "so sorry. If I knew you were coming I would have been dressed."   
"Not to worry dear." Mrs. Holmes said.   
"We didn't even tell Sherlock."   
Elise laughs nervously.   
"Tea, I should make tea." She whips around to face her boyfriend.   
"Would you like to help?"   
"No.," he says, Elise flashes him a look which screams 'please?'. He sighs and gets up from his chair. She leads him into the kitchen.   
"Why didn't you warn me they were here so I could have changed first instead of embarrassing myself in front of your parents?" She whispered.   
"I thought you would have slept through it, it's your day off, remember?"   
Elise sighed and started making the tea, rather angrily. Sherlock sighed and wrapped his arms around her like she likes.   
"I'm sorry." He mumbles on the top of her head. "But I must admit, you look damn good in my clothes."  
"Oh yeah? And what about out of them?" She flirts.   
"Even better." He kisses her neck, she lets out a little gasp.   
"Sherlock now is not the time or the place. Your parents are right there." She whispers.   
Sherlock sighs dramatically like the drama queen he is and stalks off to the living room.   
Elise places the tea set on the coffee table, back turned to Sherlock so he gets a nice view of her ass.  
"So..." Mrs. Holmes said, "how did you meet Sherlock?"   
"Through my brother John, I kind of kept showing up here and Sherlock took a shine to me, as they would say, I don't see why he would I was just a doctor back then."   
"Was? You're not anymore?"   
Elise shook her head.   
"No, um shortly after Sherlock...you know...I quit my job as a doctor and turned my head towards music, I work for the orchestra at the Royal Opera House as a first violinist."  
"Oh that's fantastic, isn't it wonderful, dear?"  
Mr. Holmes perked up, "yes, quite wonderful. Sherlock has always had a love for that instrument."   
"Is there anything upcoming? We're already going to see Les Miserables with our son, Mycroft but we wouldn't mind catching another."  
"Well I can't give too much away but we are putting on sort of a collection of movie soundtracks, a film music gala of sorts."   
"And when is it?"  
"It's from November 6th to the 10th."   
Mrs. Holmes turns to her husband. "Well, we'll have to check that out, won't we?"  
"Yes."   
Sherlock could be heard behind them, sighing. Mrs. Holmes changed the subject.   
"So how old are you, dear?"   
"I'm thirty-one, I'll be thirty-two next month."  
"Oh, when? I think it would be important to know since your dating our son."  
"Christmas," Elise said.  
"Oh, how lovely."   
Elise nodded, "I was kind of a miracle baby if people still go for that kind of thing."   
Mr. and Mrs. Holmes had a chuckle.   
"Have you two thought about getting married?" Mrs. Holmes asked Elise choked on her tea.  
"Mummy," Sherlock says.   
Mrs. Holmes looks around as if to say 'what?'. She looks across to her son, "I want grandchildren, Sherlock." She says.   
Ollie comes trotting into the living room. "You've got one," Sherlock says, Elise laughs and calls for Ollie, picking him up.  
"A real child, Sherlock." Mrs. Holmes said. "Have you thought about having children?"   
Elise blinks, "I have a few times but it doesn't really fit in well with our lifestyle, you know? Detective, violinist...it doesn't really..." she said, almost sadly.   
"Okay, I think its time for you to go," Sherlock says, getting to his feet, he walks over and pulls his mother up off the couch.   
"Oh no, must they?" Elise pouts.   
"Yes," Sherlock said.  
"Yeah, well, we're here 'til Saturday, remember."  
"Yes, great, wonderful. Just get out."  
He herds his parents towards the door.  
"Well, give us a ring." His mother says.  
"Very nice, yes, good. Get out."  
Bundling them onto the landing, he tries to close the door but his mother turns and sticks her heavy shoe into the doorway to stop the door from shutting. Sherlock pulls the door open a little, staring down at her foot.  
"I can't tell you how glad we are, Sherlock. All that time people thinking the worst of you."  
Sherlock glances round at Elise, who has started to clean up.   
"We're just so pleased it's all over."   
Grimacing, Sherlock tries to slam the door on her foot to make her remove it. She doesn't budge.  
"Ring up more often, won't you?" His father asks.   
"Mm-hm."  
"She worries."  
"Promise?"  
Again Sherlock glances round towards Elise as if to ascertain that she can't hear him, then he leans close to his mother.   
"Promise."  
Smiling, she reaches up to stroke his cheek.  
"Oh, for God..."   
He shoves the door closed and lets out a deep sigh before turning to Elise.   
"Well that's over, sorry about my parents."   
"Nothing to be sorry for, I quite like them actually." She said walking back into the kitchen. "And you should ring them up you know because at least your parents are still alive." She says the last part quietly but Sherlock still hears her.   
"Elise..."   
She turns around, her frown has turned into a smile and she looks at the crime board above the couch.  
"No need for sadness when there's a case." She said.

                                        -  
Later, Sherlock is showing Howard's footage of the mysterious Tube train disappearance to Elise, who has taken off his coat and is sitting at the dining table.  
"Yeah, that's quite odd. There's nowhere he could have got off?"   
"Not according to the maps."   
"That's weird."   
"There's something, something, something I'm missing, something staring me in the face."   
He turns to the wall again but then his phone beeps. He takes it out of his pocket.  
Elise sits down at the laptop. "Any idea who they are, this underground network?"  
Sherlock looks at a sequence of photos taken of Lord Moran walking along a road next to the Houses of Parliament. The sequence seems to indicate that he has just come up from Westminster Tube station.  
"Intelligence must have a-a list of the most obvious ones," Elise says.   
"Our rat's just come out of his den," Sherlock said.   
"Al-Qaeda; the IRA have been getting restless again, maybe they might make an appearance?"   
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! I've been an idiot, a blind idiot!" Sherlock says, triumphantly.   
"Huh?  
Sherlock begins pacing. "Oh, that's good. That could be brilliant."  
"What are you on about?"  
"Mycroft's intelligence, it's not nebulous at all. It's specific, incredibly specific."   
"What do you mean?"   
"Not an underground network, love. It's an Underground network."   
"Right...what?"   
"Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous that you can't see it even when it's staring you in the face."  
He leans over Elise's shoulder to replay the Tube footage of the lone passenger, Lord Moran getting into the train at Westminster.  
"Look: seven carriages leave Westminster..." the footage switches to show the next station. "...but only six carriages arrive at St James's Park."   
"But that's...that can't be possible? Can it?"   
"Moran didn't disappear, the entire Tube compartment did. The driver must have diverted the train and then detached the last carriage."  
"Detached it where? You said there was nothing between those stations."   
"Not on the maps, but once you eliminate all the other factors, the only thing remaining must be the truth." He points at the screen. "That carriage vanished, so it must be somewhere."   
"But why, though? Why detach it in the first place?"   
He starts pacing again. "It vanishes between St James's Park and Westminster. Lord Moran vanishes. You're kidnapped and nearly burned to death at a fireworks par..."  
He stops. "What's the date, Elise, today's date?"   
"Hmm? November 5th...My God."  
Sherlock looks at the information wall and walks slowly towards it.  
"Lord Moran, he's a peer of the realm. Normally he'd sit in the House. Tonight there's an all-night sitting to vote on the new anti-terrorism Bill."   
He stops in front of the sofa and smiles.  
"But he won't be there. Not tonight." He turns to look down at Elise. "Not the fifth of November."   
"Remember, remember."  
"Gunpowder treason and plot."


	22. I Don't Like Not Knowing

Shortly afterward they're Skyping Howard Shilcott.   
Sherlock and Elise frantically search through maps and papers on the kitchen table.   
"There's nothing down there, Mr. Holmes, I told you. No sidings, no ghost stations."  
Sherlock turns the laptop so Elise can see. "There has to be. Check again."   
Howard leans offscreen. Elise is looking through a book.  
"Look, love, this whole area is a big mess of old and new stuff. Charing Cross is made up of bits of older stations like Trafalgar Square, Strand..."  
"No, it's none of those. We've accounted for those."  
He looks closer at an old map. "St Margaret's Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street..."  
Howard takes the pom pom that he's been chewing out of his mouth. "Hang on, hang on. Sumatra Road. You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr. Holmes. There is something. I knew it rang a bell. Where is it? There was a station down there."   
"Well, why isn't it on the maps then?"   
"'Cause it was closed before it ever opened."  
"Huh?"  
He holds the book up to the camera. "They built the platforms, even the staircases, but it all got tied up in legal disputes, so they never built the station on the surface."   
Grinning, he points to the appropriate spot on the page. Sherlock has been slowly straightening up while Howard spoke.  
"It's right underneath the Palace of Westminster."   
"And so what's down there? A bomb?"   
Sherlock walks away.  
"Oh..."   
She hurries after him, grabbing her coat as she goes.

Sherlock and Elise walk briskly along the road near the Houses of Parliament and head to the stairs leading down into Westminster station. They walk across the concourse, past the fangirls, through the ticket barriers, and along the corridors.  
"So it's a bomb, then? A Tube carriage is carrying a bomb."   
"Must be."  
"Right."  
Taking off his glove, he gets his phone from his pocket.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Calling the police." She says.   
"What? No!"   
Sweetheart, this isn't a game. They need to evacuate Parliament."  
"They'll get in the way. They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient."  
Stopping at a locked maintenance entrance, he reaches into his coat, takes out a crowbar and starts to force the gate open.  
"And illegal."  
"A bit."  
The gate opens and they go inside. Sherlock pulls the gate closed behind them and they take out flashlights and start to walk down into the maintenance tunnels. A couple of paces behind Sherlock, Elise checks her phone, which reads, 'NO SERVICE'.   
Sherlock raises his head as if sensing what Elise doing.  
"What are you doing?"  
She sighs. "Coming."   
She puts her phone away. They continue onwards for a long time, walking along narrow tunnels and walkways and climbing down steep metal ladders. At long last, they walk onto the platform of Sumatra Road station. Sherlock shines his torch along the length of the track but there is no sign of a train.  
"I don't understand."   
Elise snorts. "That's a first."   
"There's nowhere else it could be."  
He turns to face the track and brings his hands up to either side of his head, screwing his eyes shut and concentrating. Sherlock's eyes snap open.  
"Oh!"   
Turning to the left, he runs towards the end of the platform.  
Elise starts chasing after him. "What?"   
Sherlock carefully jumps off the end of the platform onto the tracks.   
"Hang on. Sherlock?"   
"What?"  
"That's...Isn't it live?"   
He jumps down onto the tracks. "Perfectly safe as long as we avoid touching the rails."  
"Okay."   
Elise puts her hands on Sherlock's shoulders and he lifts her down.   
"This way."  
"You sure?"   
"Sure."   
They don't have to walk far before the missing carriage is revealed partway round a gentle bend.  
"Ah. Look at that."  
They continue on, then Sherlock looks up and sees the large open vent which he just saw in his mind. He shines his flashlight into it.  
"Darling."   
Elise turns around. "Hmm?"  
They both stop and shine their torches upwards, realizing that there are several small explosive devices attached to the sides of the vent.  
"Demolition charges." She says.   
They continue towards the carriage, Elise, ducking down and shining his light underneath and around it as they approach. She blows out a long breath as they get close and again she squats down to check the underside while Sherlock looks along the side. Sherlock opens the door to the driver's cab and they climb in and then go carefully through the opposite door into the carriage itself. Slowly they work their way along it, looking at every seat, every corner, shining their torches along the ceiling and the floor. At the second set of side doors, Sherlock slows down, paying particular attention to something. Elise progresses on to the very end.  
"It's empty. There's nothing."  
Sherlock has already spotted a pair of intertwined black and red cables strung along the wall and down to one of the seat backs.  
"Isn't there?"  
Elise turns back and points her torch where Sherlock is gently lifting the cushion, bending low to shine his light underneath. Sherlock lifts his head and looks round at him.  
"This is the bomb."  
"What?"  
Sherlock stands up and lifts the cushion all the way up. The cavity underneath is full of wired-up explosives.  
"It's not carrying explosives. The whole compartment is the bomb."  
He and Elise work their way along the carriage, lifting other cushions at random. Each one has an identical explosive device under it.   
While Elise continues lifting seat cushions, Sherlock looks around the carriage and then takes a few steps along the aisle before realizing that a floor panel is loose. As she looks down at the latest batch of explosives, Sherlock takes off his gloves and bends to the panel, forcing his fingers into the gap and lifting it. Underneath is what can only be described as the 'mother bomb'; a device massively larger than the ones under the cushions. While Elise takes several deep nervous breaths, Sherlock props the panel up against the wall of the train. They both look down at the massive device, then Elise looks up at Sherlock.  
"We need bomb disposal."  
"There may not be time for that now."  
"So what do we do?"   
"I have no idea." Sherlock says.   
"Well, think of something."  
"Why d'you think I know what to do?"   
"Because you're Sherlock Holmes, love. You're as clever as it gets. Now think of something." She said and places a kiss on his lips.   
Elise looks down at the countdown clock currently frozen at 2:30.  
Suddenly all the lights come on and the countdown clock on the mother bomb begins to tick down. They look around in shock, and Elise groans.  
"Er..."   
"My God!" She says, starting to freak out.   
Sherlock paces away from her.   
"Er..."  
"Why didn't you call the police?"   
"Please just.."  
"Sherlock!"   
"Okay!" He shouts and starts looking at the bomb, he finds what he was looking for and flicks the switch, the timer is stuck between 1:28 and 1:29.   
Through the open door of the driver's cab, a voice over a walkie-talkie radio can be heard, and flashlight beams are approaching along the tunnel. Elise stares then points towards them.  
"You did call the police."   
"'Course I called the police."  
Three armed officers are approaching, flashlights shining from their raised rifles.  
He quirks a smile at Elise, he turns and heads towards the driver's cab. Despite himself, Elise lets out a silent laugh. Sherlock chuckles as he continues on, and Elise lets out a relieved sigh.

 

Outside the door to 221, reporters and photographers are milling around in the road. Elise is having a conversation with John while she waits for Sherlock.   
He walks out into the living room.   
"You'll have to go down, you know. They want the story." She says.   
Rolling his eyes, Sherlock wraps his arm around her.   
"In a minute."   
Mary is sitting on the sofa holding a glass of champagne. Mrs. Hudson sits in the nearby chair and Lestrade is sitting in John's chair, also holding a champagne glass. Sherlock lets go of Elise and pop the cork on a new bottle and walk across the room with the bottle and a glass, kneeling down beside the coffee table to pour.  
"Oh, I'm really pleased, Mary. Have you set a date?"   
"Er, well we thought May."  
"Oh! Spring wedding!" Mrs. Hudson cooed.   
"Yeah. Well, once we've actually got engaged."  
"Yeah."  
Mary looks at Sherlock. "We were interrupted last time."  
"Yeah."  
Sherlock smiles at her.  
"Well, I can't wait." Lestrade says. He raises his glass in a toast. John, Elise is standing around, putting on her yellow peacoat.  
Putting down the glass he just poured, Sherlock stands up and walks towards the far window.  
"You will be there, Sherlock?" Mary asks.   
"Weddings, not really my thing."   
He looks across and winks at her. She smiles.  
The door opens.  
"Hello, everyone," Molly says walking through the door.   
"Hey, Molly." Elise greets, buttoning the buttons on her coat. Ollie can be heard scratching at the bedroom door.   
Molly introduces the man she's with. "This is Tom, well Elise has already met Tom...but, yeah, Tom this is everyone."   
John stares at her boyfriend almost does a double-take and then looks across the room to where Sherlock is looking out of the window.  
"Hi." He says.   
John continues to look at him in surprise. The man looks like Sherlock. He is tall and slender, has dark curly hair, a little shorter than Sherlock's, and has large pale blue eyes and prominent cheekbones. He is wearing a dark coat with the collar turned up and the scarf around his neck is tied the same way that Sherlock ties his.  
"Hi," Lestrade said.   
"It's really nice to meet you all."   
John looks him up and down, grinning, then finally pulls himself together.  
"Wow. Yeah, hi. I'm John." He shakes his hand. "Good to meet you."   
He looks across to Sherlock, who turns round from the window. Elise takes that as her cue and walks up to him.   
"Ready?" She asks.   
"Ready."   
Tom turns to meet Sherlock, who smiles down at Lestrade as he walks past him, then catches sight of Tom for the first time. He stops dead and his eyes widen. Tom looks at him equally wide-eyed as Sherlock gives him the once-over from his feet upwards.  
"Champagne?" Lestrade asks.   
"Yes."  
Sherlock's jaw drops open a little and he turns his eyes towards Elise, who grins back at him expectantly. Finally, Sherlock holds out his hand to Tom, and they shake hands. Glancing down at Molly, Sherlock walks in between the couple and out of the door. Tom turns to watch him go.  
Lestrade hands Molly a glass of champagne.  
"Thanks."  
Elise starts to follow Sherlock but stops briefly to take another look at Tom, who is taking a glass from Lestrade.   
"Thank you."  
Still apparently not quite able to take in the similarity, Elise heads out of the room and closes the door behind him.  
Outside on the landing, Elise walks over to Sherlock, who is looping his scarf around his neck. Elise points back towards the door.  
"Did you, er ...?"   
"I'm not saying a word."   
"No, best not to."   
Sherlock looks down at how he has just tied his scarf, then throws up his hands with an exasperated expression and sighs. Elise looks at the door again, then turns back to Sherlock.  
"I'm still waiting."  
"Hmm?"  
"Why did they try and kill me? If they knew you were on to them, why go after me...put me in the bonfire?"   
He picked up his coat. "I don't know. I don't like not knowing. But I will find out, I promise." He places a kiss on her forehead and trots down the stairs, Elise following.  
"Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your brother's blog, real life is rarely so neat."  
He stops at the bottom of the stairs to put on his coat. Putting on his gloves he starts towards the door, then hesitates for a moment and grimaces slightly before reaching to the coat rack. Taking his deerstalker from its peg, he puts it onto his head and tugs it into position, then opens the front door and goes out to meet the reporters as they gather round him, taking photos and shouting questions. Elise closes the door and steps to his side.


	23. Late.

Elise sat in the bathroom on the edge of the bath, staring at an unopened box of Playtex tampons, she was late. She was never late.   
There's a knock on the bathroom door.   
"Elise? Are you okay?"   
"Yes! Yes, I'm fine...have you told Sherlock?"  
"I did, he's standing there, frozen."  
Elise smiles, "well that should be a good sign."   
She opened the bathroom door, "could you stick around? Just for a few minutes? I need to make a run to the store."  
"Sure, what for?"   
"Umm..." she shuffled her feet and looked around nervously. "Nothing you should worry about, just a few things, I think I'm coming down with something." She said. She pushed past her brother and walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.   
John hums and goes back into the kitchen.   
Inside, Elise shimmies into a pair of jeans, she goes to button them, but they're too tight, she frowns and tries on another pair, the same thing, she stands there, wondering if she's gained any weight, it doesn't appear like she has, so she instead put on a pair of sweatpants and grabs her coat, keys and wallet before walking out.   
"Where are you going?" Sherlock asks.   
"Out." She said and left. 

At the grocery, she finds the pharmacy aisle and looks at all the different kinds of tests. She bit her lip and grabbed three different brands.   
She pays for them, earning a smile from the cashier, she smiles back and leaves the store.   
Back at Baker Street, she knocks on Mrs. Hudson's door.   
"Hey, Mrs. H, can I use your bathroom?"  
"Why? Is the toilet upstairs not working?"  
"No um, it's working perfectly fine, I just don't want Sherlock to walk in on me."  
"Why, what's wrong?"  
Elise takes a deep breath and looks at Mrs. Hudson very seriously. "I think I might be pregnant."   
"Oh!" She claps her hands. "How lovely! Well come inside, I'll make you some tea." 

 

Elise paced around the bathroom while she waited, and it was perhaps the longest few minutes of her life.   
The timer went off, with a shaky hand she grabbed the first test.   
Positive.  
She picked up the second.  
Positive.  
And then the third.  
Positive.   
The breath she had been holding escaped her lips in the company of a few tears. Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door.   
"Is everything okay?"   
Elise composed herself, wiping away the tears before opening the door.   
"I'm pregnant." She whispers.   
Mrs. Hudson jumped around in her joy but stopped when she saw her face.  
"Whats wrong?"   
She couldn't hold it in anymore and just started crying. Mrs. Hudson gathered her in her arms in the form of a tight hug and rubbed her back occasionally.   
"Its okay, you're alright now, come on."   
She led her into the kitchen and sat her down carefully.   
Elise's hands went to cover her face.  
"I'll make you a cuppa." 

 

She sets the cup down after Elise calmed down enough.  
"I'm scared, Mrs. H." She said.   
"Well of course you are, most first time mothers are."   
"No, I mean...what if he...what if he leaves me?"   
Mrs. Hudson looks at her sympathetically. "He wouldn't leave you, I know he won't, I've never seen that man love anything more than he loves you, even if he never says it."  
Elise smiles, "I can think of a few things he loves more than me."   
Mrs. Hudson shrugs in agreement.   
"Have you thought about how you're going to tell him?"   
She shook her head. "No idea how."  
"Should you maybe tell John first?"  
"Oh no, God no, he'd kill him."   
Elise wiped her eyes. "I think it's best if I just sit on this for a little while."   
Mrs. Hudson reluctantly agrees. 

After an hour or two, she goes back upstairs. They notice her lack of shopping.   
"I thought you went to the store?"   
She smiles at them, "they didn't have what I needed so I hung out with Mrs. Hudson for a bit but now I'm feeling tired so I'm going to bed."  
"Its four in the afternoon."  
She waved them off and shut the bedroom door behind her. 

-  
"Six," Sherlock said, not looking up from his crossword.  
"Huh?" Elise asks from the kitchen.   
"That's the sixth time you've gone to the bathroom today."   
"Oh, well, sometimes that happens." She said and started to vigorously scrub the pot.   
"I've also noticed you haven't eaten anything either."  
"I'm not hungry." Was her response.   
Sherlock gets up from his chair and takes the scrubbing brush away and makes her look at him.   
"Whatever is wrong, you can tell me."   
He said.   
"I..." she looks up at him. "I don't know how." She said.  
"Why not?"  
"Because I'm scared." She whispered tears flooded her eyes.   
Sherlock takes a step back from her.   
"Are you...are you planning on leaving me?"  
Elise looks at him like he just said the most ludicrous thing she's ever heard.  
"What? Is that what honestly popped into your head, Sherlock Holmes?" She snapped.   
"Well? Are you?"  
"No! You pompous ass!"   
"Then whats the matter?"  
"You honestly can't tell? With your-with your great deduction skills?" She fumes and starts to put the dishes away angrily.   
"You're being irrational." He said.  
"Irrational?! About what, Mr. Holmes? About what?" She yells.   
"This sudden burst of anger is irrational!" He flails his arms up in the air.   
"Well if you didn't get me pregnant then I wouldn't be angry because I wouldn't have these fucking mood swings that my hormones so gracefully bestowed on me!" She yells, tossing a pan into the soapy water. She turns back to face him. He's standing there, frozen stiff, not even blinking. She sighs and steps away from the sink, "Sherlock?"   
Nothing.  
"Sherlock," she tries again, and again nothing.   
She waves her hand in his face, he comes too.   
"I need you to get out." He said.   
"What?"  
"I said, get out."  
She scoffs, there were tears in her eyes for what seemed like the third time today.   
"I just told you I'm pregnant and your response is to tell me to leave?"  
He doesn't say anything else, just walks over to his chair and sits down, instead of saying anything she just laughs, she grabs her coat and car keys, slamming the door on her way out.   
Mrs. Hudson opened her door.   
"Did you two have a domestic?"   
"Yeah, I'm going out for a bit, to clear my head. I'll come back when he wants to act like an adult about this."  
"So you told him then?"   
She doesn't answer, instead, she gets into her car and drives off. Mrs. Hudson looks upstairs.   
"Oh, Sherlock." She says with a sigh. 

 

Elise parks outside Johns house and knocks. Mary is the one to open the door.   
"Hi, Mary." She greets in the nicest tone she can.   
"Elise? This is an unexpected surprise, come in."   
Elise shrugs off her coat and sits on the couch, head in her hands.   
"Whats the matter?" Mary asked sitting next to her, rubbing her back.   
Elise lifted her head and sniffed deep before composing herself.   
John walks in. "Elise? What's wrong?"  
"Sherlock and I...we had a fight." She said simply. John blinked and gave her his full attention.   
"About what?"  
She took a deep breath. "I'm um...I'm pregnant.." she says softly. "Surprise." Her laugh was weak and humourless.   
"I'm gonna kill him," John says, grabbing his coat.   
"John, no." Mary gets up to stop him but Elise grabs her hand.   
"I'm gonna kill that-" John didn't finish his sentence, he just stormed out.   
"Why didn't you let me stop him." Mary asks, "it's your boyfriend he's going after."   
Elise scoffs, "I'm not even sure he'll be that for long, he told me to get out when I told him, though it was in the middle of the fight."  
"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry." She rubs her shoulders. "Maybe he just needs time to think, that's all."  
Elise shook her head, "I doubt it." 

                                     -   
She didn't come home when it was dark, Sherlock wasn't in the living room but his coat was still there, she checked the bathroom and the bedroom before she heard muffled swearing coming from upstairs. Cautiously she made her way up, pushing the door open she saw the sweetest thing, Sherlock and John were in his old bedroom putting together a white crib, although Sherlock did have a split lip.   
Elise stood there, arms crossed, smile bright.   
Sherlock was the first to notice her arrival.   
"This was supposed to be a surprise." He said.  
"Well consider me surprised." She said with a chuckle.   
Sherlock got up off the floor and looked at her sadly but seriously.  
"Listen, love, I am sorry about what happened. I should have acted more rationally."  
"Well you acted as rationally as you could, I didn't expect you to be joyful about it, considering I don't think you want this."  
He sighed and turned towards John who was still putting the crib together, acting like he wasn't paying attention to the conversation.   
"Well, I didn't want children, I still don't know if I'm ready to have children...but, for you, I will try."   
Elise wrapped her arms around her middle.   
"Good, I'm glad that you're willing to try. But I do think we should've waited until we knew the sex of the baby before we build the nursery."  
Sherlock chuckled, "that was John's idea."   
She looked over at her brother who just smiled innocently at her.   
"Well, there's only one thing left to do." She said.  
"And what's that?"  
"Tell your parents."


	24. Swan or Sydney Opera House?

When she woke up Sherlock was still asleep, walking into the kitchen she fed Ollie and made breakfast for herself, keeping in mind she had an appointment at eleven this morning and it was currently nine-thirty. Putting her dishes in the sink she tiptoed into the bedroom and crawled on the bed until she was straddling his waist.  
"Oh, Mr. Holmes." She said in a sing-song voice, bending down to pepper his face and neck in kisses, his lips twitched, so she tried again until he opened his eyes.   
"Someones affectionate this morning." He said, she sat up, giving him a good view of the small bump that was hidden under her shirt.   
"Its time to get up, we have an appointment with the ultrasound technician, remember?"   
Sherlock groaned and covered his face with a pillow.   
"No no no, none of that, Mr. Holmes." She took the pillow away, flinging it in Ollie's empty doggie bed.   
"Do I have to go with you?"  
"Yes." She huffed, putting her hands on her hips.   
Sighing he gave her a pat on the thigh, signaling her to get off so he can get up. 

She decided to drive there instead of taking a cab.  
They didn't have to wait long since they were on time.   
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes." The technician greeted.  
"We're not married," Sherlock said.   
"Oh, well... let's get you propped up here Elise." She laid down on the examination table.   
"And lift up your shirt for me, please...thank you, the gel will be a little cold."   
Elise squealed a little when the gel hit her stomach. It took a few seconds for the inside of Elise's uterus and the baby, though it's quite small, about the size of an avocado.  
"And there's a leg...and the other one...there are the little arms."  
Elise cooed and grabbed Sherlock's hand, she turned to look at him, he was looking at the screen, his face was stoic but his eyes were not, Elise could see hints of pride, fear, happiness, the like.   
"And that's it, your baby is developing normally, however, I will encourage you to try and bulk up a little bit in weight."   
Elise nodded.   
"Would you like to know the sex?"   
"Yes, please," Elise said, she turned to Sherlock and squealed excitedly.   
"Well, congratulations its a girl."  
"Oh! Did you hear that, Sher? It's a girl!"   
The technician wiped the excess gel off Elise and Sherlock helps her down.   
The technician prints the picture off and hands it to Elise.   
"If you come with me, we'll schedule your next appointment." 

\-   
When they got home Mrs. Hudson asked to see the photograph, Elise shrugged her coat off and grabbed the photograph.   
"Oh, isn't it lovely!" She turned to Elise. "Do you know..?"  
"Its a girl."  
"A girl?"  
Elise nodded.   
"Oh! Congratulations. Isn't this wonderful, Sherlock?"  
"Hmm, yes, wonderful." He said from his laptop.   
"He's secretly happy underneath all that..." she makes a proud face, making Elise laugh.   
Elise chuckles, "well I really must call John, he's dying to know if he's having a niece or nephew."   
"Okay, I'll make you two some tea, I picked up a tin of Rooibos this morning, it's on the safe tea list."  
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Elise said, she sat down on the couch and was immediately joined by Ollie. She picked up the phone and hit John's number.   
"Hello."   
"Hey." She said, unable to hold her excitement. "So, I have some news."   
"Is it about the baby?"  
"Uh-huh, it's um, I'm having a girl."   
"Really? That's fantastic! I just told Mary, she's ecstatic, she's insisting on coming over, well she has to come over anyway because we have to finalize the seating plan, we'll be over for about three."   
"Well okay, I'll see you then."  
"Bye."   
She hung up and wiggled her way onto Sherlock's lap.  
"Your happy about this aren't you?"  
She looks at him very seriously. "And your not?"   
"I am, in as you put it 'my own weird way'."   
She laughs, "yes that's exactly how I'd put it, 'in your own weird way.'" She kissed his cheek.   
"So, we have to start thinking about nursery stuff."  
Sherlock groans. "Now?"  
"Well I mean not now, John and Mary are coming over soon and that'll take up our afternoon and then I'll probably be too tired to do anything else."   
Sherlock sighs.   
"Oh quit being such a drama queen." She says, she gets off him and walks into the kitchen.   
"I'm not a drama queen."  
"Yes, you are." 

                                        -   
Sherlock is standing in the living room of 221B looking at his information wall behind the sofa. He turns to where Mary and Elise are sitting at the dining table and John is sitting in his armchair and looking at his phone.  
"Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin." Sherlock says.   
"Ah, orphan's lot. Friends, that's all I have. Lots of friends."   
The wall behind the couch is covered in paperwork because Sherlock insisted on organising the hell out of the wedding. There is a list of things which need to be done, all of them ticked off, and the wall is divided into areas which are headed, 'Transport,' 'Catering,' 'Rehearsal,' 'Wine,' among others.   
On the table beside Mary is a cardboard 3D model of the reception venue.   
"Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11.48."   
"But the rehearsal's not for another two weeks. Just calm down."   
Elise wanted to help out with the seating arrangements but she's currently dipping a dill pickle into vanilla ice cream.   
"Calm? I am calm. I'm extremely calm." Sherlock insists.   
"Let's get back to the reception, come on."  
He walks over to the table.  
Mary hands him an RSVP card. "John's cousin. Top table?"   
He looks at the card. "Hmm. Hates you. Can't even bear to think about you."   
"Seriously?"  
"Second class post, cheap card..." he sniffs it and grimaces. "...bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp: three attempts at licking. She's obviously unconsciously retaining saliva."  
"Ah." She looks over her shoulder to John. "Let's stick her by the bogs."   
Elise looks at the card. "Oh, cousin Jan, I always had a distaste for her, but I never brought it up because I didn't want to be mean."   
Sherlock kisses the top of her head and grimaces at the combination of food. Mary leans closer to him.  
"Who else hates me?"   
Instantly Sherlock hands her a sheet of paper. There's a long list of names on it.  
"Oh great, thanks."   
"Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting." John said, but no ones paying attention to him.   
Mary is looking at the paperwork. Table four..." "Done," Sherlock assures.   
John chuckles at something. "My husband is three people."  
"Table five."   
"Major James Sholto. Who he?"   
"Oh, John's old commanding officer. I don't think he's coming." Elise says, taking another pickle from the jar.   
"He'll be there," John said.   
"Well, he needs to RSVP, then," Mary said.   
"He'll be there," John said, a little more firm this time.   
"Mmm..."   
John tries again. " 'My husband is three people.' It's interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin."  
Sherlock stands up and speaking quickfire. "Identical triplets, one in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat. Now, serviettes."  
He squats down beside the coffee table, reaches under it and pulls out a tray with two serviettes folded into different shapes. He gestures to them as he looks up at Mary.  
"Swan, or Sydney Opera House?"  
"Where'd you learn to do that?"  
"Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation-"  
"Fibbing, Sherlock," Mary says.   
"I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of..."   
"I'm not John. I can tell when you're fibbing." "Okay, I learned it on YouTube."   
"Opera House, please."   
She leans to one side and reaches into her trouser pocket.  
"Ooh, hang on. I'm buzzing."  
"Elise darling, come help me, I need tiny fingers."  
She sighs and stands up and carefully lowers herself onto the floor. 

 

When John come back, Sherlock and Elise are still sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, Sherlock's head propped up on one hand, and Elise is still working on her third serviettes. He briefly looks round at John, then turns back and gestures at what's in front of him. There are at least seven serviettes folded in Sydney Opera House shapes on the table, and sixteen or so more on the floor.  
"That just sort of...happened."   
He looks round at John again, who frowns but then smiles. Glancing back into the kitchen for a moment, he walks towards his friend.  
"Sherlock, um..."   
Sherlock stands up.  
"...mate..."  
Again he frowns briefly, perhaps wondering if he is overdoing it.  
"I-I've..."   
He walks over to the dining table. Sherlock glances towards the kitchen where Mary can be heard talking as if she's on a phone call, then they both sit down at the table.  
"I've smelled eighteen different perfumes; I've sampled..." he stops to think "...nine different slices of cake which all tasted identical; I like the bridesmaids in purple..."  
"Lilac."  
"...lilac. Um, there are no more decisions left to make. I don't even understand the decisions that we have made. I'm faking opinions and it's exhausting, so please, before she comes back..."  
He glances towards the kitchen, activates his phone, clears his throat and holds the phone across the table.  
"...pick something."  
Sherlock's eyes flicker down to the screen a couple of times. Elise puts her serviette down on the table and stands up, she walks over to Sherlock and wedges herself between his arm and torso. Subconsciously he wraps his arm around her waist and places his hand on the bump.   
"Anything. Pick one."  
"Pick what?" He asks.   
John blinks a few times and then laughs.  
"A case. Your Inbox is bursting. Just...get me out of here."   
Sherlock leans closer to John and whispers. "You want to go out on a case? N-now?"   
"Please, Sherlock, for me. Help me out here Elise."   
Elise stops running her fingers through his curls, she catches on pretty quickly.   
"Sherlock, love, my brother is clearly suffering and needs your help."   
Sherlock takes the phone.  
"Don't you worry about a thing. I'll get you out of this."  
He quickly finds something of interest. Elise sighs and goes to find Mary, who is still in the kitchen, playing with Ollie.   
"I think John might have gotten Sherlock to think of something else other than the wedding."   
Mary smiles, "have you started the nursery yet?"   
"I have a couple ideas, I prefer pastel colours, I don't know about Sherlock, we don't talk about the baby much."   
"Well give him time to adjust, this is all very new to him."   
Elise nods. "I also was thinking of names too, though now I can cross out the list of boy names." She takes her phone from her pocket, "though this is something I want to decide on with Sherlock, I do want to narrow down my top five."  
"Well, I'd be happy to help."  
Elise smiled and read off the list of names.   
"I really like Ella."  
"So do I, its a top contender for sure, and I think Sherlock would like it too."   
"I also like Arabella."   
They continued talking about names until they had her top five.   
The boys stand up and walk towards the doors just as the girls come back into the room from the kitchen.  
"Er, we're just going to...I need, um, Sherlock to help me choose some, er, socks."  
"...ties."   
"Why don't we go with socks?" Mary says.   
"Yeah."  
"I mean, you've got to get the right ones."   
"Exactly, to go with my..."   
"...tie."  
"...outfit."  
"That'll take a while, right?"   
John points towards the kitchen.  
"My coat in there?"  
"Yes!"  
He walks into the kitchen and Mary and Sherlock walk closer together.  
"Just going to take him out for a bit, run him." He says.   
"I know."   
Sherlock smiles at her.  
"You said you'd find him a case!"  
"Mm."  
"Come on, Sherlock."  
"Coming." Sherlock gives Elsie a quick kiss and leaves and they both turn and head for the stairs. Mary sighs and turns to Elise.  
"Movie?"  
"Please."


	25. Matches Your Tie.

Elise wakes up to use the bathroom when she notices two people in the living room. Upon closer inspection its Sherlock and John. She sighs and walks into the living room. "You boys are home early." She said. They both have Rizlas's on their heads, Sherlock's has his own name written on it while John's says 'Madonna'.   
Sherlock's face lights up like a child on Christmas morning.   
"Elise! My darling! C'mere!" He says, holding his arms open. Elise sighs and walks over to her very drunk boyfriend.   
"Lemme look at you." He says. "You are absolutely beautiful, you are quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and you're carrying my baby." He turns to John. "She's carrying my baby, isn't that amazing."  
John hums, he looks like he could pass out at any moment.   
"I think its time for bed, Sherlock." She said.   
"But its still very early." He said.   
Mrs. Hudson knocks on the open door.  
"Ooh-ooh!"  
They look round at her. She is standing in the doorway with a young woman who is wearing a nurse's outfit with a cardigan over it.  
"Client!"  
"Hello," John said.   
Sherlock waves at the woman. "Hello!"   
Mrs. Hudson turns to go back down the stairs.  
John gestures for her to come in the room. "Come on."  
"Which one of you is Sherlock Holmes?" She asks.   
Smiling broadly at her, John raises his hand and whistles a single rising note through his teeth in time with his hand movement, slowly points up towards the words on Sherlock's Rizla. Sherlock grins widely at her.   
Elise smiles at the client before escaping to the bedroom to go back to bed. 

In the morning she got a phone call from Lestrade.   
"Are you kidding?" She says, she can already feel herself getting agitated, and it was way too early for that.   
"Yes, I'll come get them." She hung up and got dressed, mumbling about something in the car. 

She's standing at the front desk, arms crossed, foot tapping, not looking pleased.   
John and Sherlock walk in, they look at her and lower their heads.   
"Sherlock, remind me of what I said before you went out last night?"  
"Don't take a case while drunk."  
"And what happened?"  
"We went on a case drunk."   
"Yes you did, and what do you say?"  
"I'm sorry." He mumbles.   
"Sorry, what was that?"  
"I'm sorry." He says louder.  
"You sound like mum." John pipes in.  
"Shut it, John."  
"Sorry."   
She sighs, exasperated, "go get your stuff, c'mon." She says tiredly and calmly. "I'll be in the car." 

John and Sherlock join her shortly and she drives back to Baker Street, without a word.   
Elise sits both the boys down at the dining table and sets down two glasses of water, dropping an effervescent antacid pill in each glass and sits down.   
"If you want breakfast then you can ask Mrs. Hudson." She says.  
"Your not still mad are you?" Sherlock asks, rubbing his forehead.  
"Yes, I am Sherlock, you promised me no drunk cases, and yet, here we are."   
"I said I was sorry, didn't I?"   
She sighed. "You did."   
Sherlock reached over and grabbed her hand. "How about we talk about...baby stuff."   
Elise smiles and takes out her phone. "Well, I was thinking..."

-  
Elise groans, looking at herself in the mirror. "All these dresses emphasize how fat I am." She whines, Mary laughs. "Your not fat, Elise, your pregnant. There's a difference."   
She huffs and turns to look at a different angle. "Whats your dress size again?"  
"Normally or currently?" She jokes. "I'm an 8."  
"That's extra small right?"   
"You got it."   
Mary pulls out another dress for her to try on, its knee length, with a plunging V neck detailed with pretty scalloped lace and elbow length sleeves in a pretty ivory.   
Elise sticks her hand out for it and goes into the dressing room.   
"Well? What do you think?" Mary asks.  
"I like it."   
"Good." 

Elise walks into the flat, Sherlock is surrounded by multiple laptops, John is nearby with Ollie on his lap. Ollie saw Elise and jumped off, tail wagging.   
"Hi, Ollie!" She set her bag and coat down before kneeling to pick up her dog, holding him like a baby. "Have you been good?"  
He licks her face. "I'll take that as a yes." She looks at Sherlock. "On a case?"  
"Yep."  
"Anything I can help you with?"  
"Nope." Elise pouts and sits down in his chair.   
"Sorry, love." He whispers and kisses her cheek before standing up, he peeks at what's in his bag.   
"Ivory?"  
"Matches your tie, Mary says." 

\-   
When John left they grabbed their violins and Sherlock grabs the music.   
"You have to memorize this Elise," Sherlock says.   
"We just started working on this yesterday! And besides, I got pregnancy brain." She said, putting her violin on her shoulder. They're working on a piece for John and Mary's wedding, it was a request for the first dance, they worked on the tune together, but couldn't exactly keep with each other, Elise was full of emotion while Sherlock lacked in certain places, a clear sign he went back in his head. Elise stops.   
"Sher, your thinking to much."  
"Sorry, love."   
"Just don't think, feel it."   
They started again. 

\-   
In the morning Sherlock suggested they dance together, the piece they composed was playing in the background.   
Elise wasn't a bad dancer but she didn't know how to waltz and it was even more difficult when your partner is a whole head taller than you, especially since she couldn't wear heels, not worth the risk.   
"Why can't you be taller?" Sherlock complains.   
"I'm sorry, all the Watson's are short." She says.   
"Really?" He asks, spinning her.  
"Uh-huh, my mother was the same height as my father, Harry is an inch shorter than John and I'm five inches shorter than John." She grabs her hand again.   
"Will the baby be short too?"  
"Well that depends on which of us has the dominant genes, but we won't know until she's born."   
"Have we thought of any names? And by we I mean you."  
Elise smiles, I have a top five. Ella, Arabella, Emerson, Lily, and Hannah. But her middle name has to be Marie."  
"Why?"  
"That was my mother's name."   
Sherlock hummed, "Ella, I like Ella. Ella Holmes." He says, a hint of pride in his voice.  
"Holmes? Why not Watson?"  
"Well, she's my daughter."  
"Well, she's mine too."   
"Well," Sherlock says, cupping her face in his hands, "I guess there's only one way to solve this little argument."  
"And what's that, Mr. Holmes?"  
"I guess, I'll just have to marry you."   
Elise's eyes sparkled, a smile crept on her face. "Well, I accept your proposal, Mr. Holmes."   
He bent down to kiss her.   
"Ooo-ooo!" Mrs. Hudson walked in, carrying a tea tray.   
"Am I interrupting?" She asks.   
"Yes." Sherlock answers honestly, "I had just proposed to Elise when you barged in."  
"Sherlock, be nice."   
"Oh!" She cooed, clapping her hands together. "How lovely! Can I see?"  
"See what?" Elise asks, sitting at her easel.   
"The ring."  
She picks up a paintbrush. "Well, no ring doesn't mean it's not official, besides I'm not into materialistic things."   
Sherlock smiles and sits in his chair, remembering the first gift he ever gave her.   
Mrs. Hudson sits in John's old chair.   
"So, it's the big day, then!" She says, excitedly.   
"What big day?"  
"The wedding! John and Mary getting married!"  
"Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday and then carry on living together. What's big about that?"   
"Well, thats what your about to do, isn't it." Mrs. Hudson asked.   
Sherlock looked over to Elise who was working on the painting she started a few days ago.   
It changes people, marriage.  
"Aren't there usually biscuits?" Sherlock asks.   
"I've run out."  
"Have the shops?"  
He pointedly walks towards the door.   
"Sherlock, be nice," Elise says.   
"I'm sure the shop on the corner is open, you've got things to do."  
"No, not really. I've got plenty of time to-"  
"Biscuits," Sherlock says, sternly.   
She gets out of her chair, tutting.  
"I really am going to have a word with your mother." She says.   
"You can if you like. She understands very little."  
He closes the door on her, then turns around sighing.   
Elise looked at the clock. "Hm, I should probably start getting ready." She said and got up.   
She took her make-up bag and curler into the bathroom and shut the door.   
She walked out after 45 minutes, her makeup was kept light and natural and her hair was curled and pinned up.   
Sherlock was already wearing his suit.   
"Look at you, you look very dapper." She said, straightening his tie. She catches his top-hat in the corner. "I can't wait to see you in that." She teased, taking her dress off the door. She slipped out of her pyjamas and had Sherlock's help, zipping it up.   
"Mary was right, it does match your tie."   
Sherlock smiles, his hand lands on her bump. Elise savours this sweet moment since he doesn't do it very often.   
After a few minutes, she had to pull away to fill Ollie's food and water dish.   
Sherlock handed Elise her spring jacket and they left for the church.


	26. Sign Of Three

Church bells tolled and the doors to a church open. John and Mary, newly married, walk out followed by Sherlock and the chief bridesmaid, whose name is Janine, then two more bridesmaids and the vicar. A photographer is waiting outside.   
"Congratulations! Okay, hold it there, I wanna get this shot of the newlyweds."   
John and Mary stop and the bridesmaids stand behind them. Sherlock steps to Mary's side.  
"Er, just the bride and groom, please."  
Sherlock doesn't move. John looks round at him.  
Elise looks over from her spot and whispers, "Sherlock."   
He takes the hint and goes off to the side.   
"Okay...three, two, one, cheese!"  
The bridesmaids throw handfuls of confetti into the air and the photographer starts taking pictures. The rest of the congregation come out and the photo-taking continues, including one of John, Sherlock, and Greg standing side by side, with Archie standing in front of them wearing either John's or Sherlock's top hat. Later, the photographer takes a picture of Sherlock and Janine. Nearby, Molly stands with her fiancé Tom. She is gazing at Sherlock and if she really believes that she has 'moved on,' her expression suggests that she's not fooling anyone but herself. Mary demands one good photo of Elise and Sherlock, preferably showcasing her bump, which she wasn't comfortable with, she kept complaining that it made her look fat.   
During one of the photos Sherlock whispers, "nonsense, you look beautiful."   
After the photographer has finished with them, Elise goes over to say hi to Molly, Elise knew how Molly felt about Sherlock and luckily by some miracle it didn't deteriorate their friendship, they didn't see each other as often anymore because Elise was no longer a doctor and sometimes being a Specialist registrar can demand long hours but they still went out on little lunch dates or brunch or Elise would go over to Molly's to make her more comfortable. And truth be told Molly was excited about the baby too, she even wanted to plan the baby shower.   
Elise looks over at Sherlock who is talking to Janine, Mary's chief bridesmaid. It appeared to Elise that she was flirting with him, but of course, he was completely oblivious. Elise squeaked a little when he called her over, she turned towards Molly and smiled before walking over.   
Sherlock clears his throat. "Janine, this is my fiancée, Elise, Elise this is Janine."  
"I know," Elise said.  
"We've met." Janine said, smiling, "but last time I saw you, you were quite smaller, how far are you now?"  
Subconsciously, Elise runs a hand over her bump, "halfway through my fifth month. I'm due in September."   
"And have you thought of any names?"  
"Ella Marie."   
"Oh isn't that pretty."   
Sherlock zones out as the girls continued to talk, eventually, they had to greet the guests outside the venue. Sherlock kissed Elise's forehead and she went to go find Molly again, which wasn't hard with that yellow dress she's got on. 

                                          -  
Sherlock's speech was long, very long, she was sitting at the same table as Molly, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and others. She had the option to sit with family but she chose her friends instead.   
Elise smiled some of the time when Sherlock would tell a funny story about John, which she eagerly gave to Sherlock, John looked in Elise's direction with an expression that read 'I'm going to kill you.' but with that she just winked, at least the guests got a kick from it.   
Thankfully Sherlock's speech picked up. Suddenly in the midst of Sherlock's speech about murder, Major Sholto got up from his table he picks up his ceremonial sword propped against a nearby window and turns to walk towards the door. Sherlock turns his head away, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opens them again. He whispers something to himself.   
He turns and watches as Sholto reaches the door and starts to open it. Sherlock turns back and heads quickly towards the top table, swiping someone's champagne glass from a table as he goes.  
"Ladies and gentlemen, there will now be a short interlude."  
He skids to a halt in front of the top table and turns and holds up his glass.  
"The bride and groom!"  
A little uncertainty this time, the guests stand up and raise their glasses, Elise has a little bit more of a challenge standing as you would imagine.   
"The bride and groom." They all say.   
Instantly Sherlock turns back and bends down to John. He turns and starts making his way through the guests who are now blocking the aisle.  
"'Scuse me, coming through!"   
John quickly turns and takes Mary's head in one hand and kisses her.   
"Consulting!" Sherlock says.   
John gets up and starts making his own way through the guests.  
" 'Scuse me. Coming through! 'Scuse me."   
Mary hesitates for only a few seconds, then jumps up and follows him.  
"Sorry, one more. Whoops! So sorry! Thank you!"   
The guests murmur and chatter to each other in confusion.  
The master of ceremonies walks to the front of the room.   
"Well, er, I guess we should make room for the bride and grooms first dance...if they come back." He said a little more quietly. 

Nearby Elise tinkers with her violin, checking its tuning. Lestrade walks over.   
"So, I guess you really are pregnant, hey?"  
She smiles and puts the violin down.   
"Of course I am, this isn't some pregnancy suit under here Greg."   
He has a laugh.   
"So what does this mean for you and Sherlock? Are you going to tie the knot ever? Remain boyfriend and girlfriend." He jokes.   
Elise sighs, "actually we are getting married, he asked me this morning."   
"Really? Wow. Have you told John?"  
"Not yet."   
She goes back to tuning. "I'm sure Sherlock needs you by now." She said.   
"Yes, yes you're probably right." He walks off. 

When Sherlock comes back the tables have been cleared away and John and Mary get ready to have their first dance. Elise hands Sherlock his violin and they get on that little stage on the end of the room, playing the piece they were working on, Sherlock took Elise's advice and stayed out of his head when he played.   
On the floor Mary and John are waltzing, and the tune draws to an end, John shifts one hand to Mary's back, holds her by the waist with the other and starts to dip her backwards.   
Elise smiles, 'ever the romantic, my brother.' She thinks.   
He kisses her as the tune ends. The guests break into applause and some of them cheer. Sherlock steps up to the nearby microphone.   
"Ladies and gentlemen, just, er, one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose and was dealt with. More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows. I've never made a vow in my life, and after tonight I never will again. So, here in front of you all, my first and last vow. Mary and John: whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you. Er, I'm sorry, I mean, I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact. I've just miscounted. Anyway, it's time for dancing." He looks over his shoulder to the DJ on the stage. "Play the music again, please, thank you."   
Disco lights begin to flash and Sherlock gestures grandly to the guests as Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons' song 'December 1963 (Oh What A Night)' starts to play.  
"Okay, everybody, just dance. Don't be shy!"  
He grabs Elise's hand and walks down off the stage, still gesturing to the crowd.  
"Dancing, please!"  
The guests start to move onto the floor and begin to dance.  
"Very good!"  
"Sherlock, what are you going on about?" Elise asks, still being pulled along by her fiancé.   
He walks over to Mary and John who look quizzically at him.  
"Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting."  
" 'Deduction?' "   
Sherlock looks at her intensely. "Increased appetite...change of taste perception...and you were sick this morning. You assumed it was just wedding nerves. You got angry with me when I mentioned it to you. All the signs are there."   
"The signs?"  
Elise catches on and smiles excitedly, her hands rush to cover her mouth.   
Sherlock glances across to John then turns his eyes back to her.  
"The signs of three."  
His gaze drops to her abdomen.  
"What?!"   
"Mary, I think you should do a pregnancy test."   
John sighs and drops his head, almost bending over double. Mary grins delightedly at Sherlock.  
"W...th...the statistics for the first trimester are..."  
"Shut up," John says.   
Sherlock freezes in the middle of forming his next word. He looks at John as if waiting for permission to continue.  
"Just...shut up."   
"Sorry."  
John turns to Mary.  
"How did he notice before me? I'm a bloody doctor."   
"It's your day off."  
"It's your day off!" He counters.  
"Stop-stop panicking," Sherlock says, panicking.   
"I'm not panicking."  
"I'm pregnant, I'm panicking," Mary says.   
"Don't panic. None of you panic."  
The Watsons both look down, their faces full of concern.  
"Absolutely no reason to panic."  
"Oh, and you'd know, of course?"   
"Yes, I would. I also have a child on the way with my fiancée, who also happens to be your sister-"  
"I'm sorry what?" John says, both confused and somewhat delighted by what Sherlock had said.   
"Right, um, I probably should have asked you first, but uh, Elise and I are getting married."  
"You didn't get her a ring, did you? Because you know how she-"  
"Yes, John I know."   
The boys laugh and John pulls Sherlock into a hug.   
Mary turns towards Elise. "I can't believe it!" She gushes, "not only am I going to be an aunt but a mum too!"  
"I know! This is amazing! And I'm also getting married so soon we'll both be married and Ella will have a friend to play with and it's just..." she finishes with a sigh.   
"Dance," Sherlock says, abruptly.   
"Mm?"  
"Both of you, now, go dance. We can't just stand here. People will wonder what we're talking about."  
"Right."  
John and Mary walk off, leaving Sherlock and Elise by themselves.   
Sherlock takes her hand and moves them into a waltz.   
"I'm happy for them, just married, now a baby, quite traditional, don't you think."   
Sherlock smiles, "yes, but when have we ever been traditional?"  
"You have a point."   
"Elise, listen, are you sure you don't want a ring because I can-"  
"Yes, Sherlock, I don't need a piece of jewelry to determine our relationship. You know that."  
He smiles at her. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Accompanying playlist:
> 
> https://8tracks.com/frostyunicorn300/how-lovely-she-is


End file.
